


Any Way You Can

by katcchako



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Father-Son Relationship, Feel-good, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Humor, M/M, Prostitution, Sexual Humor, Sexual Tension, dad!iwaizumi, kid!kageyama - Freeform, kinda?? i guess?? i mean its gonna be eventually, prostitute!oikawa, tobio is the light of iwa's world dont fuck with his son ok
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-13
Updated: 2017-09-15
Packaged: 2018-04-26 13:05:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 39,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5005888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katcchako/pseuds/katcchako
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>He expected Oikawa to retort with a comment like <b>Oh, Iwa-chan’s been looking at my ass then~?</b> but what he got instead was far from that. “You really have a kid?”</i>
</p><p> </p><p>Iwaizumi Hajime - aspiring chef, world's best dad, and an all around good guy - just wanted to help out someone he wouldn't quite call a "friend." Maybe he helped just a bit too much. But you can't really expect such a deadbeat human being to get anywhere in the world without a little push, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. come home with me

**Author's Note:**

> just bear with me alright. this is fucking going somewhere, and that destination is a place i like to call wonderful.
> 
> me, taking a month to write things: ok so what if i

He was… small. So very small in Hajime's arms, and so quiet and still, and yet so full of life. All he did was breathe, slow and calm. Soft, tiny, new, and Hajime didn't know what else to do but stare.

And then, the eyes opened, large and blue and so full of emotion and words that those eyes wouldn't be able to comprehend for years to come. Hajime's lips parted and he let out a small breath and those large eyes blinked up at him, long black eyelashes loomed over the deep blue.

"I made this," Hajime whispered. "Oh my god, I made this. He's so... he's so beautiful."

A sleepy voice called out to him, "Hajime,"

Hajime looked away from the child and over at the girl sitting up on the hospital bed. Her hair was flattened on the back with several pieces sticking up, and she looked tired. Maybe even a bit upset. "Aki, he's so beautiful. He looks just like you." Then, he was looking down again, smiling at the tiny being in his arms.

Aki looked down at her hands, fidgeting with the hospital band around her wrist. "I'm glad you think so..." She didn't seem glad at all. Her deep blue eyes traced her hands and then began trailing the distance from the edge of the bed to where Hajime and the baby sat. She balled her fists when her eyes stopped at the baby, it's large eyes staring up at Hajime with what already seemed to be admiration. Aki swallowed hard. "...Hajime, listen."

His eyes were back on her. "Mm? Do you want to hold him?"

"No," she answered all too quickly and Hajime almost flinched. She struggled a bit to find her words. "I... I'm..."

"I love you, too." He said, smiling a small smile.

"No, stop. That's not what I was going to say." She sat up a bit more, straightening her back. Hajime watched her and felt himself deflate a bit. The baby wiggled slightly in his arms, Aki's eyes flashing to him for just a moment before locking with Hajime's again. "I don't want to be a mother, Hajime."

That... had to be some kind of joke, right? A sick, twisted, Aki-like joke...

"That's not funny," Hajime answered quietly, his eyes drifting back down to the baby. "It's a good thing Tobio doesn't understand words yet. He'd be hurt that you'd say something like-"

"I'm serious."

"Aki."

"I'm  _serious_. I don't want to be a mom. I'm too young! I have too much of my life still ahead of me..."

 _And, what, I dont?_  "You can't... just leave, though. You can't just not be his mom."

Her eyes said 'yes I can' and 'try me' and an assortment of other things that tore Hajime's heart apart.

"...And besides. He's got  _you_. Unless you planned on bailing too? Probably... that's what all young dads do."

"I would never-"

"Save it, Hajime. I just wanted to give you a heads-up because once I'm able to leave, I'm leaving. I don't care what you do with him after I'm gone."

Hajime felt the prickle of a cry or a yell or  _something_  begin to crawl up his throat, but he wouldn't let whatever it was come out.

* * *

 Tiny hands pushed at Hajime's left arm, the struggle to roll him over very real.

"Daddy," a small voice whispered. "Wake up time."

"Nooo," Hajime fake-whined into his pillow. He lifted his hand and patted the top of his son's head. "No, Tobio, no, it's sleep time."

"Wake up!" Those tiny hands grabbed at his wrist and lifted his own hand from straight black hair, and then brought the hand down to his small mouth to leave a mouth-fart against his palm. Hajime snickered into his pillow and pulled his hand away, then rolled onto his other side. Tobio huffed. "Daddy get up."

"We have..." Hajime looked up from his pillow to check the time on his phone. "...like ten more minutes."

"I want breakfast!!"

"I want sleep."

"Pancakes!"

"Pillows."

"Daaaaaaddyyyyyy."

"Toooobiiooooo."

Tobio was not ready to give up as he took to his knees, ready to climb over onto Hajime's back and hit his hands against his head as though it were a pair of bongos. But before he could move, Hajime had sprung up and was now tickling Tobio into the sheets. Tobio kicked and wiggled and laughed and snorted, and shouted "stop it, you win!" repeatedly until Hajime was sitting upright with his arms folded over his chest and a smile on his face.

"I win, hm?"

"You're up now, so I win by the fault."

"You mean default?"

"Daddy you're so smart." Tobio nodded. "Soooooooo... Can I have pancakes?"

Hajime snorted out a "sure" as he slid off of the bed and scooped Tobio up with one arm. Tobio scrambled and crawled up to sit on Hajime's shoulders with a bit of help from his father so he wouldn't fall in the process. Once Tobio secured himself, Hajime walked them out of the room and into the kitchen. Tobio stayed on his shoulders while he checked the cabinet for instant-pancake mix. When he found what he was looking for, he quickly washed his hands and took a pan from it's hook above the stove to get to work.

Tobio watched his father pour the instant-pancake mix into the pan and laid his chin atop Hajime's head while he waited. And then, with a small gasp, he squished Hajime's cheeks together. "Daddy, daddy, put me down!"

"Forget to potty?" Hajime crouched down so Tobio could adjust and slide off of his back with ease.

"No, I did that already! Before I woke you up!" Tobio announced as he padded over to the fridge. Hajime watched him pull the door open and reach inside, and smiled when Tobio pulled out the store-bought container of blueberries. "Can you put these in the pancakes?"

"Blueberries for my blueberry?"

"Yeah!!" Tobio sat the container of blueberries on the counter beside the stove and watched with a smile as Hajime popped the top off. He took a handful of the small berries and sprinkled them into the batter until it was dotted with dark blue spots. He stood up on his tiptoes so he could get a look but couldn't see quote over the pan and pouted.

Hajime patted the top of his head. "Go sit at the table, Tobio." He said when Tobio was looking up at him. "When you finish eating we gotta get ready for the day, okay?"

"Okay!" Tobio slid over to the table and climbed into the chair that he always sat in. He folded his arms in front of him and watched Hajime finish up the pancakes. "Daddy, Hinata-san promised to make me and Shouyou and Natsu-chan her special meat buns today, I think."

"That's nice. You and Shouyou are still getting along well?"

"Bestest friends, daddy.  _Bestest_." Tobio insisted with a firm nod. Hajime chuckled and Tobio smiled widely.

The pancakes were done soon after that exchange and after Hajime cut some up into pieces for Tobio, he sat a plate down in front of him.

"Syrup?"

"Yes, please!"

Hajime drizzled just enough syrup over Tobio's pancakes to leave it sweet but not enough to cause the boy to go into sugar shock like he always feared would happen. Tobio happily munched on his blueberry pancakes and talked while he chewed, always forgetting Hajime's 'don't talk and eat' rule, though his father didn't mind. Tobio blabbed about cartoons and Hinata Shouyou and a mix of other things, and Hajime listened as he always did while he ate. He wanted coffee, but there wasn't enough time for him to make some himself. Besides, Shouyou's mother always offered him a cup when he dropped Tobio off in the morning, so it wasn't really something to worry about.

When breakfast was done and their dishes were sitting in the sink, Tobio issued a challenge to race to his room and was halfway there in the middle of deeming the race had started. He beat Hajime, which was fine, and then hopped up onto his bed to stand proudly, hands on his hips.

"I beeeeeeat you!" He chimed when Hajime stepped in.

"Yeah, you did, darn! Will I ever be as fast as you, Toblueberry?"

Tobio seemed thoughtful for a moment, bringing a hand to his chin as he started to jump on his bed. Then, he said, "Probably not, sorry Daddy."

"Aw, man. Teach me how to run fast like you."

"Okay!"

"After I get home though." Hajime added, and Tobio nodded. "Okay, stop jumping on your bed. It's time to get ready to go to Hinata-san’s."

Tobio stopped jumping and landed back on his butt, wiggling his toes impatiently while Hajime went through Tobio's dresser to grab some of his clothes.

When Tobio was all dressed and ready, Hajime turned on the TV in the living room and left Tobio to watch cartoons so he could get himself dressed as well. He almost put his shirt on backwards and honestly would have noticed if it weren't for the tag sticking out and rubbing against his chin. Hajime was still quite groggy, after all. But then again, he was pretty used to getting up early after all these years with Tobio.

He stared at himself in the mirror and yawned, running his hand through his short hair until he decided it was acceptable to leave the apartment with his bedhead. He grabbed his keys and his phone from the small stand beside his bed and turned the light off before walking out of the room.

"TV off Tobio, time to go," he announced, turning the kitchen light off.

Tobio jumped up from the couch and turned the TV off with the remote before racing his groggily-moving father to the door. "Haha, I'm still faster!"

"Darn." Hajime snorted, pulling his coat from the hook by the door and sliding it on. He took Tobio's small hand in his and opened the door, then locked it behind him once they were in the hallway. One door over were the Hinata's, and thank god for them. He knocked, waited a moment, and then heard a loud gasp from the other side - presumably Hinata Shouyou getting excited, as always, of Tobio's arrival. His mother opened the door shortly after Hajime had knocked and she smiled softly at the groggy man. 

"Coffee?" She offered as her greeting for the morning as Hajime let go on Tobio's hand and allowed him to run inside at the sight of Shouyou.

"Please." Hajime answered.

He waited in the doorway as she slid back into the apartment and toward their kitchen, and that's when small two-year-old Natsu approached him.

"Hello, Natsu-chan." He said.

"Hi hi, Zumi." She answered with her small smile. Then she toddled off behind the couch like she always did. She was a shy one. It was cute.

Before Hinata-san reemerged from the kitchen, Tobio was back to the door and snuggling against Hajime's legs. "I forgot something."

"What did you forget?" Hajime smiled, ruffling the sleek black hair on his son's head.

"I love you, Daddy."

"I love you too, Tobio."

Hinata-san's timing was great, as she now stood a few inches behind Tobio with a portable coffee-cup in her hand. She extended it over Tobio's head and Hajime took it gratefully before lifting his other hand from Tobio's head.

"You be good, okay?"

"Always!" And then Tobio released his tight hold on Hajime's legs and ran back to Shouyou, nearly knocking him down in the process.

Hajime's eyes joined Hinata-san's again. "I may be back late today."

She waved him off with a warm smile. "Don't worry about it, Iwaizumi. The boys don't cause me a lick of trouble. Take your time. Have a nice day."

"Thank you, you too,"

 

The outside air had a bite to it, nipping at Hajime’s face as soon as he walked out the apartment complex. He watched the cold fog puff from his nose when he exhaled and stuffed his free hand into the pocket of his coat as he walked to his car. His keys were icy against his fingers. The coffee was hot in his other hand.

There was a thin layer of frost on his car that he quickly scraped off of the windshield with his sleeve before climbing in the driver seat and shoving his key into the ignition. Hajime was relieved when the heat burst through the vents and started warming up the inside of his car.

His eyes locked onto the car seat staring back at him from its reflection in his rearview mirror. _Tobio maybe too tall for that, soon,_ he mused. Tobio had just turned 5 at the end of December, and he was quite tall for his age. Or, at least, he was taller than Hajime was when he was 5. Maybe half a head taller _. Lucky._

Hajime turned his attention to the radio for a moment, turning the volume dial up just enough to hear the faint sound of music.

The drive to work was always irritating to Hajime because there was that one fucking red-light that _always_ stopped him, and there was that stupid pothole that still wasn’t filled. With that, the drive was just too long for him after just waking up and not getting to spend enough of the morning with Tobio.

(He couldn’t comprehend how some of his coworkers, or _anyone_ for that matter, could complain about their children—as though they were burdens… thinking about it always made him feel sick.)

When Hajime got out of his car, he honestly expected what was about to happen would happen. He even turned, expectantly, awaiting it, as he reached for his coffee and then locked his car up.

“Iwa-chan~”

“Yo.” Hajime gave a small wave with his key hand while taking a sip of his coffee. He eyed the man approaching him and cringed at the way-too-thin-for-this-kind-of-weather hoodie and the faded pink shorts that flowed mid-thigh, revealing long pale legs. “What the heck are you wearing? It’s like thirty-five degrees out here.”

The other man smiled, tilting his head to the side, brunet curls to bob slightly at the motion. “I’ve got to show off the goods, you know.”

“What goods.”

He winced. “Aah, Iwa-chan is always so cruel to me…”

“You’re right, my bad, you have goods… they’re just stale. They’ve been sitting out for too long.”

The other looked hurt and offended, puckering his lower lip out, and then snorted soon after. “Like I said. Always _so_ cruel.”

“Seriously, though.” Hajime began walking toward the restaurant building, and the other followed at his heels. “It’s too cold for that. Have a little respect for yourself and indulge in some sweatpants.”

“Sweatpants don’t pay my rent, Iwa-chan,”

“I’m pretty sure bus stations don’t require a monthly payment, Oikawa.”

“That was a low blow.”

“Low blows are your specialty, aren’t they?”

Oikawa laughed and hummed in agreement. “Would you like to find out?”

Hajime rolled his eyes at the question. “Anyway.”

“Anyway,” Oikawa echoed.

They stopped at the back door and Hajime paused before turning the knob to enter. Oikawa never followed him inside, but that’s not what stopped him. He turned after a moment of silent contemplation and held the remained, almost half full to-go-cup of coffee out to Oikawa.

“It’s cold out here and if you’re going to wear crap like that then you need this more than I do.”

Oikawa stared at Hajime for a short moment before taking the cup. He brought it up to his lips and took a long sip, maintaining eye contact with Hajime. His nose scrunched up a bit, Hajime assuming that his coffee tastes were too bitter for someone like Oikawa, but he still drank in its warmth.

“Mm,” Oikawa hummed finally, pulling the cup away from his mouth. “Like an indirect kiss.”

Hajime squinted at those words. “Shut up.” He turned his head away when Oikawa laughed at his very well thought out retort. “Anyway—”

“Anyway~” Oikawa repeated him again, and took another sip of the coffee that he still didn’t seem to like that much.

“I need to go to work. So, um… don’t get… yeah.”

“Don’t get fucked too hard? No worries, there’s no ‘too hard’ anymore.” Oikawa’s voice sounded a _bit_ too light to be dropping a bomb that heavy as a goodbye.

Hajime was silent for a moment before he turned his back to Oikawa and took the knob. “See ya.”

Before he could push the door open, he felt something graze his arm, and then grip onto the sleeve of his coat. Oikawa’s hand. Hajime turned his head and, for some reason, expected to see a very hurt expression adorning Oikawa’s face. He was not met with a pained look though; instead he was given a quirked eyebrow and a far-too-playful smile.

“Will you have time to play with me today, Iwa-chan?”

“What’s my answer every day, Oikawa?” Hajime turned his attention back to the door. _This guy is too fucking much for me to deal with in the morning. Or, actually, ever._

Oikawa sighed and let go of his sleeve. He turned his back to the other and threw his free hand up in the air while walking off. “So boring, Iwa-chan~! Bye-bye!”

Sighing, Hajime pushed the door open and walked inside. His coworkers greeted him, he greeted back, and clocked in. He tried to focus on a story one of his coworkers had begun telling him when he reentered the kitchen, but he couldn’t. He just stood silently at the sink, washing his hands for five straight minutes with Oikawa’s heavy words bouncing around.

Hajime wanted to hiss and question what the fuck he’d even meant by that, and if it were just some gross joke.

But he knew it wasn’t.

 

Hajime was ready to scream when his shift finally ended at 7PM. Being chef’s assistant was busy busy busy work, and though he loved his job, he also really fucking hated it. The perks were great, but waking up early and leaving late made it feel very not-great and not worth it.

He said goodbye to his coworkers and trudged outside, pulling his coat on and cursing the cold gust of air that met him when he pushed open the door. He looked up at the sky and grimaced at the clouds that covered the sky. They looked like snow clouds, and that made him shiver. His hands weren’t much warmer in his pockets than his face was while being blasted by the wind.

Hajime fished his keys out of his pocket, pressing the button to unlock the car as he approached his it, but then his fingers stilled, mind halting when his eyes caught the figure leaning against the bumper of his car. Even curled in on itself and face hidden in his knees, he knew who it was.

“Oi, Kawa. Why are you still here?”

The other mumbled, his head still down. “Don’t use my name in a greeting, Iwa-chan,”

And then, Oikawa looked at him. He looked sleepy, eyes drooping slightly. And… there was dry blood that had streamed from his nose and smeared above his lip. Hajime shuttered at the sight.   _So much for ‘too hard’ not being too hard…_

“I wanted to make sure you got your dumb cup back. I’m very considerate.” Oikawa replied, forcing himself off of the ground and staggering slightly toward Hajime. He extended a shivering arm for Hajime to take the cup. “It was warm for a while. I didn’t finish all of it though.”

“Why is your nose bloody?” Hajime ignored the cup, his question firm as though he didn’t already know the answer.

“Uh…” Oikawa paused for too long, but then just shrugged. “Just business.”

Hajime got lost in thought for a moment. Oikawa was a prostitute, an annoyingly persistent one filled with vanity and shamelessness. And yet, there he stood, looking lost and somewhat dazed, and accessorizing with a bloody nose. It was as though Hajime was seeing him for the first time over again when he knew nothing about him. He knew very little about Oikawa as it was, but…

Oikawa waved the cup around his face, bring Hajime away from his thoughts. “Iwa-chan, take your cup so we can plaaaaay~”

Hajime took the cup, blinking slowly a few times as Oikawa slid the cup into his hands. He stared at him, his mind racing for a moment, and Oikawa was in the middle of saying something, but Hajime didn’t pay attention to what it was.

“Get in the car.”

Oikawa’s lips paused mid-sentence. Mouth still open, he stared at Hajime. Even though he had just been talking, he was at a total loss for words.

Hajime exhaled sharply and then walked around him to the passenger side to open the door. Oikawa followed him with his eyes, but never moved from where he stood. “Didn’t you hear me?”

“You said to get in the car.” Oikawa answered quietly.

“So, get in the car.” Hajime gestured.

Oikawa swallowed hard, but then that look of confusion washed off of his face and was replaced with that dumb smirk that Hajime hated to look at. “Oh, so you _do_ have time to play with me th—”

“Oikawa, it’s in your best interest to get in the car within the next ten seconds.”

“Ooooh, Iwa-chan is the bossy type? If he insists~” he ignored the look Hajime gave him and slid over to the passenger side. He did, however, hesitate before climbing into the car.

Hajime shut the door for him and then walked around to the other side to get in. He shoved his key in the ignition and heard Oikawa audibly sigh when the heat blasted out of the vents and blew against his icy skin. Hajime watched Oikawa’s eyes shut, dark brown lashes fluttering down over cold cheeks, eyes trailing down and stopping on his nose. He cringed at the crimson smudge painted above Oikawa’s mouth.

When Oikawa opened his eyes again, he inhaled sharply, and Hajime expected some sort of disgusting remark to come from his lips. But nothing but a heavy exhale came from him as he shivered. Even with the heater blasting to its highest mark, considering what Oikawa was wearing, Hajime knew he was probably chilled literally down to his bone.

“Open the glove compartment, there are baby wipes in there you can use to clean your nose up with.” Hajime told him before turning in his seat to face the back of the car. Tobio’s baby blanket that they used for long car-rides during the winter was thankfully still back there, though lying on the floorboard. He took it up and turned back to sit facing forward again.

The glove compartment was open when he was sitting normally, Oikawa staring into it as he rubbed his hands along his thighs, trying to warm them. He didn’t make a move to get the package of wipes.

Sighing, Hajime draped the baby blanket around Oikawa’s shoulders—it reached his elbows—and watched the other stiffen at the soft fabric when it touched him. After a beat, Oikawa pulled the blanket by its corners so the material hugged around his body. While he did that, Hajime reached for the package and popped the top open to get a whip.

“Hold still.” He said, moving the wipe towards Oikawa’s face. The brunet flinched visibly when Hajime’s hand got near his face. Hajime hesitated, waiting for Oikawa to drop his shoulders and untense before he went to wipe the blood off.

“I can do it.” Oikawa muttered. He didn’t look at Hajime.

Hajime blinked at him. “If you could do it then you’d have done it already.” And when Oikawa said nothing back, Hajime wiped off the blood. When Oikawa’s face was clean, Hajime tossed the bloody wipe into the plastic trash bag he kept between the driver and passenger seat filled with empty milk boxes and the like.

Oikawa’s eyes followed Hajime’s hands as the car backed out of the parking lot. Hajime glanced at him before turning out of the lot and into the street. Oikawa was quiet for just a bit too long, but his silence begged a question that Hajime wasn’t sure if he should answer.

But he did anyway. “We’re going to my place.”

Oikawa’s jaw set and he shifted uncomfortably, his knuckles turning white as he gripped Tobio’s baby blanket tighter. He exhaled before giving Hajime a faux smile, forced and somewhat twitchy. “I always knew you wanted me, Iwa-chan.”

“Drop that shit,” Hajime sighed. “I’m not interested.”

Pouting, allowing his lower lip to poke out, Oikawa looked offended. “Then why are you taking me home?”

Hajime’s eyebrow twitched as they came to a red-light. “Well, let’s see. It’s cold as fuck outside and you’re dressed like you’re about to take a nice walk on the beach, not to stand out in the cold. Secondly, it bothers me a lot that you’re okay with sitting outside like that _with_ a bloody nose. I mean, I’m not a fan of your line of work, but aren’t you supposed to look approachable and not like you just got out of a fight?” He took in a breath while Oikawa just stared at him and proceeded down the road. “Also, I know you haven’t eaten anything today, or at least not since you had the coffee I gave you, and that’s not even _food_ , so I’m going to feed you.”

After taking a moment to absorb all of what Hajime said, Oikawa blinked and set his gaze forward to the windshield. “That’s… nice.”

“I’m always nice.”

Oikawa let out a dry, bitter laugh. “At least you are.” He didn’t give Hajime a moment to respond before he was looking at him again, expression weirdly happy, with an eyebrow raised and his head cocked slightly to the right. “You know, I’ve never heard you swear. How long have we known each other? The word ‘fuck’ sounds weird coming from you. Good weird…”

Hajime cringed as Oikawa paused because he knew what was coming.

“…I bet I could make you say it again… all breathy and hot, too...”

“Stop.” Hajime sighed, irritated. “I have a son so I try to filter myself, but I’m pissed off that you’d let yourself sit outside in shorts that barely cover your ass, so my filter is gone.”

He expected Oikawa to retort with a comment like _Oh, Iwa-chan’s been looking at my ass then~?_ But what he got instead was far from that. “You really have a kid?”

“I’ve told you before; at least thirty times. And aren’t the baby blanket, the baby wipes, and the car seat dead giveaways?” Hajime answered. They were almost to his apartment.

Oikawa shrugged, his expression now neutral and relaxed—good. “I always thought you were lying about it because you didn’t want to fuck me. Anyway, I was hoping you were still lying even after all this evidence~” Oikawa sighed exaggeratedly, whipping his head dramatically to look out his window as though he were really hurt by Tobio’s existence. “I thought maybe, just maybe, you were just some good guy who transports his sister’s kid around to daycare or some shit.”

“I’m an only child.”

“That’s all you’re going to say?”

“I’d never use Tobio as an excuse to avoid having sex with you. I can find plenty of other excuses, such as ‘ew,’ ‘no thanks,’ ‘I’m not interested,’ and ‘bye.’”

Oikawa actually laughed at this, a real laugh that didn’t last very long but was very warm and contrasted deeply to the Oikawa that Hajime had come to know in the last couple of months. It was whole and velvety, but not as angelic and perky as the giggles that Oikawa supplied when trying to be flirty. It was _real._ Hajime had to admit he liked it.

Hajime pulled into the complex’s parking lot and turned off the car. “Come on,” he said, unbuckling his seatbelt.

Oikawa followed him inside of the building with Tobio’s blanket still draped around his shoulders like a tiny, fluffy cape. Hajime was a bit relieved that the front desk clerk was eyes-deep in a magazine and too distracted to look up for more than a second when they entered the building. The two of them made their way to the elevators and Hajime pressed the button after they stepped inside, and he waited silently for Oikawa to make some gross joke about having sex in a public elevator but he never did. Or maybe he did in his head, but Hajime could care less about that.

Hajime pulled his keys out of his pocket as the approached the door to his apartment, Oikawa following close behind him. He was a bit _too_ close, actually, and as Hajime pushed his key into the keyhole, Oikawa sat his chin upon his shoulder.

“What—stop it,” Hajime pushed the door open once it was unlocked and he gestured that Oikawa walk inside first.

“Ah~ Iwa-chan,” Oikawa hummed, stepping inside and taking in the place, spinning in a small circle as Hajime pulled his coat off and placed it on he hanger beside the door. “You’re too trusting, ya know? What if I wasn’t so nice—I could steal all your shit and run off.”

Hajime rolled his eyes. “Yeah, okay, but a thief wouldn’t tell the person he’s stealing from that he’s going to steal from him. Besides, where would you hide it? Your hoodie’s pockets aren’t even big enough for a pack of cigarettes to hide unnoticeably in.”

“Mhm, that’s true, I guess. But, still, you’re too trusting. You just let a prostitute in your home.”

“I know. I’m starting to regret it.”

Oikawa pouted and slouched. “Mean.”

Hajime shot him a look. “You can sit on the couch, dummy.”

With a fake gasp, Oikawa placed his hand onto his chest. “Such cruel words coming from such a beautiful man!” Oikawa spun in a dramatically circle before taking a few steps back and flopping down on the couch. “I’m hurt! I’m wounded! I’m—”

“Stupid.” Hajime substituted before Oikawa could finish. Large brown eyes narrowed in his direction and Hajime snorted.

“Yikes,” Oikawa. “Do you kiss your son with that mouth? Oh! That’s why you said dummy. You’re home. You’re going to be filtered again! Damn!” Oikawa pretended to be physically pained by this, clutching at his chest. “The little monster is what keeps us separated, Iwa-chan.”

“Don’t call him that.” Hajime said and hesitated before turning his back to Oikawa. “I’ve got to go get him, so I’ll be right back.”

“Take your time, I’ll make myself at home~”

“Joy.”

Hajime left the door open as he walked to the next apartment over and knocked. From inside he could hear loud giggling that ceased almost immediately, and the silence was followed by a squeal of “daddy!” that came from Tobio. Soon after, the door was pulled open and Hinata-san stood, a very sleepy looking Natsu cuddled up in her arms. The woman smiled at Hajime and he smiled back.

“How was Tobio?”

“Ah, he’s always a good boy. You know that. The boys are in Shouyou’s room finding Tobio’s socks—he just insisted on taking them off.” She spoke fondly and warmly, and Hajime chuckled.. “Oh! Would you like to stay for dinner, Hajime?”

“Actually, I…” he glanced back at his apartment, door still open and light from the inside shining out into the hall. “I have a dinner guest tonight. Um…”

“I see; someone special~?”

“Not exactly.” Hajime sighed. “Um. You know that guy I told you about, the one that I see every morning at work… met him a few months after I fixed Tobio’s papers—”

“The prostitute?”

He was surprised she felt free enough to say it, but nodded regardless. “Yeah. He, uh... He was in pretty bad shape and I—”

“Say no more.” Hinata-san shifted her now sleeping daughter slightly so she could place her hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “You’re a good man, Iwaizumi. You don’t need to explain. Just be wary for Tobio’s sake—”

Almost as if in cue, Tobio came bounding into the room with his shoes in his hands, and Shouyou running to keep up with the other boy. Tobio ran straight into Hajime’s legs and threw his arms around them with a smile.

“Daddy!”

“Hey, kiddo. Ready to go home?”

“Yeah!” Tobio released his father’s legs and turned to bow to his babysitter. Then, he smiled graciously. “See you tomorrow, Shouyou!”

“Yeah!” Shouyou beamed in response.

Hajime took Tobio’s shoes from him and let him walk down the hall in his socks. When they reached their own apartment, Oikawa wasn’t sitting on the couch anymore. Hajime squinted, shutting the door behind them as he placed Tobio’s shoes beneath where he’d hung his coat earlier.

Then, Oikawa emerged from the hallway with his arms stretched over his head. He noticed the way Hajime was looking at him—curious—and smirked. “Sometimes even the prettiest of us have to pee, Iwa-ch—”

A loud gasp from Tobio cut Oikawa off. “OOOH! DADDY! YOU BROUGHT A NEW FRIEND OVER!”

“Tobio, don’t yell.” Hajime scolded, but it wasn’t harsh and he was smiling down at his son. Then, looking up at Oikawa, he gestured down to the boy. “Oikawa, this is Tobio. Tobio, this is Oikawa.”

“Oika-san!” Tobio clapped his little hands together.

“No.” Oikawa shook his head. “Oi-ka-wa. It’s easy. Say it. Oi.”

“Oi…” Tobio started cautiously.

“Kawa.”

“Kawaaaa!”

“Now say it together.” Oikawa told him expectantly.

“Oi-ka-wa!”

Hajime expected some sort of disgusted sneer or look of ridicule from the other, but Oikawa just nodded approvingly before sliding back onto the couch. Tobio quickly scrambled away from his father to sit next to the new person.

“I like your shirt.”

“It’s a hoodie.”

“Can you say my name too? If not, I can teach you!”

“It’s…” Oikawa paused for a moment, and Hajime didn’t miss the way he examined Tobio’s face. “…Todo. Right?”

Tobio giggled. “No! Tobio.”

“Tobo?”

“Tobio!”

“Ooooh. _Toooo_ bio.” Oikawa nodded slowly while Tobio clapped. “Right, okay. I got it now, Tobio-chan.”

Hajime felt relieved as he walked into the kitchen. “I’m starting dinner. Any requests?”

Oikawa raised an eyebrow and flinched when Tobio threw his arms up in excitement. “Pork curry and eggs! And teriyaki! And—”

“One thing at a time, Tobs,” Hajime hums. “How about I surprise you?”

Tobio was suddenly looking at Oikawa with a very serious face. “Daddy’s surprises are the bestest. Better than the _bestest,_ even.”

“I’m sure.”

“Make… A surprise!!” Tobio yelled, extending his arms outward, startling Oikawa yet again.

“You got it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you actually stuck around ily and i swear this is going somewhere. this is gonna be a really feel-good fic trust me ok trust me im a doctor i have knowledge in feel-good things. trust me.


	2. paying it forward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keep your hands to yourself, Oikawa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i swear i'll try to update faster, wow, i just. i could blame school, but honestly it's a really poor excuse in my case. let's blame the american government instead. 
> 
> but wow i struggled with this chapter and i dont even know why... anyway here it is, ft. Yaku for like 3 seconds!

“You know,” Oikawa began, leaning his elbows on the kitchen table, holding his right hand over his left and placing his chin above both. “I see you walk into that restaurant almost every morning, and it never once occurred to me you could cook.”

Hajime snorted quietly as he reached over and wiped Tobio’s face when the boy wasn’t occupied by the lake of soy sauce on his plate. “What’d you think, I was a busboy?”

“Honestly.” The brunet answered with a smirk. He batted his eyelashes. “Like, in… movies, ya know, you never see a handsome chef but rather a very buff and unnaturally eroti—erm…” Hajime shot him a look and he corrected himself quickly. “— _Pretty_ busboy…”

When Oikawa trailed off, his smirk still on his face, Hajime rolled his eyes and sat back in his chair so Tobio could go back to his food. “Be honest though, those movies aren’t really _movies_ , are they?”

Oikawa slapped a dramatic hand to his chest. “Iwa-chan, not in front of the child!” And Hajime rolled his eyes.

“I like movies!” Tobio said, sounding offended. “You can talk about movies in front of me!”

“Tobio he—”

“My favorite movie is My Neighbor To…tor… Daddy help. What is it?”

“Totoro.”

“Totoro!” Tobio gasped. He threw his arms up in excitement. “That’s it!”

Hajime smiled as Tobio started to explain the plot of the movie the best that a five-year-old could. Oikawa listened, sure, but Hajime was fully aware of how much attention he wasn’t paying. But he pretended, and that made Tobio happy, so that was good enough for Hajime.

 

When dinner was over, Tobio insisted that he didn’t need a bath and that he certainly didn’t need to go to bed yet, and that he _absolutely_ had to watch My Neighbor Totoro with Oikawa. Hajime gave Oikawa a look before he was able to encourage the child’s refusal, and the brunet smiled all-too sweetly at Tobio.

“Maybe another night.”

Tobio pouted, but nodded. “Okaaaaay… Daddy,” his attention was off Oikawa quickly after that. “Can I have bubbles, at least?”

“Not tonight kiddo,” Hajime took Tobio up in his arms. “It’s pretty late, after your bath its bedtime.” Tobio huffed and crossed his small arms across his chest and Hajime snickered before looking at Oikawa again. “After I give Tobio a bath, the shower’s all yours. Uh… you can watch TV or something, I guess?”

Oikawa flopped down onto the couch and folded his right leg over his left, waving Hajime off after taking the remote in his hand. “Sure, sure.” He paused, watching Hajime start down the hall with a still-pouting Tobio peeking at him over his father’s shoulder. “Uh! Iwa-chan?”

Hajime slowed and half-turned, facing Tobio the other way so he was able to look in Oikawa’s direction again. “What?”

“Uhm… Thanks. Thank you. Okay, go wash your stinky kid.”

Tobio giggled in Hajime’s arms, his pout vanishing with the bubbly noise that left his lips. “I’m not stinky!”

“Hm, well, you must be if Daddy Dearest has to give you a bath, Tobio- _chan~_ ”

The child looked at Hajime as he snorted and walked the rest of the way down the hallway to the bathroom. “Daddy am I stinky?”

“No, Oikawa’s just being a jokester.” Hajime sat Tobio up on the bathroom counter. “No playing tonight, okay? You gotta be in bed soon.”

“I’m not sleepy.”

“You will be when you lay down.”

Tobio refolded his arms so that Hajime couldn’t get his shirt over his head. “Don’t wanna take a bath.”

“But you stink.”

“You said…!”

Hajime lifted a hand to his chin, pretending to be deep in thought for a moment, and then, he snapped his fingers as though he had developed a brilliant idea. The action had Tobio’s attention, even as Hajime turned to the tub to turn the water on and fill it. “I’ll tell you what, Toblueberry. If you’re a good boy and get in and out of the tub, I’ll tell you any kind of bedtime story you want, _and_ I’ll make you chocolate chip waffles in the morning.” Tobio’s eyes lit up at the pause, sparkling with anticipation. Hajime reached a hand over and ruffled his son’s hair. “—And you can even help me make ‘em.”

“Deal!” Tobio’s hands shot up without a moment to spare and he sucked in a breath—a weird thing he always does when it’s time to undress and get ready for bath time—as Hajime pulled his shirt up over his head.

Tobio was normally a good boy when it came to most things, including bath time. This time was no exception, even if he had to be persuaded with the reward of a bedtime story and chocolate chip waffles. He sat like a good little boy in the tub, splashing his small hands lightly against the water while Hajime washed his hair.

Hajime handed him his “fuzzy sponge” after covering it in soap. “Wanna show me how good you are at washing yourself off?”

“I’m a big boy,” Tobio answered proudly.

When the time came to get out and dry off, Hajime had a plush, bright blue towel for Tobio to wrap around himself. Hajime sat on the edge of the tub as it drained and brushed Tobio’s wet hair as the boy stood, nuzzling his towel for warmth.

“Daddy, it’s cold.” He wiggled his toes on the bathroom floor. “I want my jammies.”

“Oh, you want your jammies, huh? Jammies?” Tobio nodded, then smiled widely when Hajime scooped him up. “Jammie time, Tobio?”

“Jammie time!”

Hajime enjoyed the little things that filled his time with Tobio. He enjoyed the big smiles that came from simple conversations, and he enjoyed the loud giggles Tobio would have a fit of when Hajime had to wrestle him into his pajamas every night. Though, as Hajime carried his burrito-towel-wrapped son across the hall to his bedroom, he noticed Tobio’s giggling subside and his wide eyes fall into slow blinks.

“Sleepy?”

“Mhm.”

Hajime looked down the hall before completely entering Tobio’s room. Oikawa was still sitting idly on the couch watching something on the TV. He was quiet. Hajime wondered, just for a moment, what he was thinking about.

And then he tossed Tobio onto his bed. The boy giggled softly upon impact with the mattress and sat up, curled up beneath his towel.

“Oooh, ya know, I did laundry last night,” Hajime said, opening a drawer. He looked at Tobio over his shoulder. “Guess what I washed.”

“Uhh…! Godzilla?” Tobio gasped. He clapped his small hands together when Hajime nodded.

“You’re so smart, Tobio.”

Hajime didn’t have to wrestle Tobio into his pajamas this time, and the boy was yawning by the time he’s snuggled under his covers. Hajime’s tossed the towel into Tobio’s dirty clothes hamper—which has nothing else in it at the moment—and he sat on the edge of the bed. Tobio smiled a small smile up at him and Hajime smiled back, running a hand through his sons hand before clearing his throat.

“So, once upon a time—”

“I want a new story,” Tobio interrupted, his voice tiny.

Hajime raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Alright. What kind of story do you want to hear, Tobs?”

“Uuuh…” Tobio shrugged slowly. “I dunno… one with dragons? And wolves? Ooh! And Totoro!!”

Hajime sighed fondly. “Alright, alright.”

It was a good thing he’d been five years trained in the art of bedtime story telling…

 

Tobio fell asleep sooner than Hajime had expected he would. He was only seven minutes into his story—and it was getting good, too! Before he left the room, he placed a kiss on Tobio’s head and cut his bedroom light off, checked to make sure the nightlight was still working, and walked out.

He thought Oikawa would be passed out on the couch considering how quiet he’d been for the best half hour or so, but no. He was wide awake, and when Hajime had shut Tobio’s door and stepped out of the hallway, Oikawa’s gaze was stuck on him.

“Out like a light,” Hajime hummed triumphantly. “You can shower now—I’ll get you some clothes.”

Oikawa only nodded. Hajime started wondering what was going on in his head again. He shook the thought off as he entered his own bedroom and looked for something for Oikawa to wear. Oikawa was slightly taller than him, not more than an inch or two, and he was thinner, so whatever Hajime gave him would most likely fit.

He took a pair of sweatpants and a green t-shirt from his dresser and hesitated before getting over his stupid pride and grabbing a pair of his boxers as well. When he walked back out, Oikawa was standing on the other side of the couch facing Hajime, with his back to the TV.

Hajime held the clothes out to Oikawa once he reentered the living room. “There’s towels hanging up, you can use my or Tobio’s shampoo, it really doesn’t matter to me. There’s also a bin of washcloths beside the sink that you can use with the soap, and, um. Yeah.”

“You don’t have many guests, do you, Iwa-chan?” Oikawa observed, looking over the clothes Hajime had given him.

“Not many who sleep over, no.” Hajime answered. Oikawa lifted his eyes and watched the other walk back into the kitchen.

Oikawa placed the clothes Hajime gave him over the top of the couch and followed the other to the kitchen, stopping where the doorframe began, and he peeked inside. “So I’m sleeping over?”

Hajime gave him a disgruntled look. “It’s almost eleven thirty… I’m not gonna make you leave this late at night.”

“So kind~” Oikawa chimed, stepping into the kitchen as Hajime started to wash the dishes that sat patiently in the sink. “Let me help you… clean up.”

“’Kay,”

“What can I do?” Oikawa lowered his voice.

“Um, wipe off the table, or come here and dry these dishes, I don’t care either way.”

Oikawa pouted at the disinterest in Hajime’s voice and leaned over the kitchen table, folding his arms on the flat surface and propping himself up with them. “There’s nothing else?”

Hajime paused. “…Do you wanna wash these dishes? I mean, you can do that, but I’m almost done.”

Huffing, Oikawa stood back up and slid around the table. He approached Hajime and placed his arms on either side of the man, trapping him between the kitchen sink and himself. Hajime paused abruptly when he felt Oikawa’s chest press against his back.

“Stop.”

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa muttered into his ear. “I’m not a house keeper… there are plenty of other things I could be doing for you, though.”

“That’s not why I brought you here.” Hajime huffed.

Oikawa let out a frustrated breath that was hot on the back of Hajime’s neck. “Well it should be. Don’t knock me until you try me, Iwa-chan…”

Hajime felt his jaw tighten and he placed the dish back down into the sink. It clattered a bit too loud. “Did you say the same thing to the guy who gave you a bloody nose?”

“Yiiikes,” Oikawa tried not to sound like that hurt him, but Hajime immediately regretted it. “No, to him I had said, ‘you’re a lot smaller than I thought you’d be,’ and, well, you know how men are with their fragile egos,”

“Like you can talk.”

“You hurt me, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa mused, his hands sliding along the edge of the counter until Hajime had no wiggle room. Oikawa placed his chin on Hajime’s shoulder as he spoke. “But I might be a bit of a masochist…”

Hajime groaned loudly, shoving Oikawa back just enough so he could turn. Oikawa backed up slightly, his brows knitting down when Hajime faced him. “You’re so resistant.” He sighed, leaning forward slightly in hopes it would assert the dominance that he certainly did not have. “Like fucking bug spray, or something.”

“If you’re referring to yourself as a pest then yeah, I agree.”

Pressing his lips together in a tight frown, Oikawa stepped forward again until his chest was touching Hajime’s. He hesitated visibly, Hajime noticed, and Oikawa waited for him to retaliate, but he didn’t do much more than glare. Oikawa pinned him back against the sink again.

“You should met me repay you for dinner… from one friend to the other.”

“What you have in mind isn’t how friends repay each other.”

“Hm… we must have different friends, then.” Oikawa leaned in closer until their forehead touched. Hajime still didn’t shove him, so Oikawa brought his hips against Hajime’s in anticipation. “But, you should still let me.”

“No.”

“Iwa-chan…”

“ _No_ , Oikawa.” Hajime paused, his eyes flickering away for a mere moment, and Oikawa thought he was reconsidering it. Rather, he was just looking for the right words to use. “I didn’t pay for this. So you’re not obligated. You shouldn’t even be thinking about that. Besides.” Hajime squeezed his right hand in-between their chests and pushed Oikawa back again, but not as hard as the first time. “I tell you this time and time again. I have a child. That shit’s the furthest thing from my mind.”

And Oikawa was quiet for a few moments. Hajime watched him, watched the way his eyes darted oh so slightly from his feet to somewhere to the left of him—watched as the gears turned. Then, finally, he spoke. “How am I supposed to repay you for…” he gestured vaguely, at a loss for words.

Hajime thought, and then shrugged. “Just treat me like a person. Now go take a shower, I don’t want to be up much longer.”

Oikawa’s eyes widened in bewilderment, his lips parting and then closing repeatedly for a moment, still at a loss for words. “I… you’re still letting me stay?”

“Like I said, I’m not going to make you leave this late at night. Not when it’s as cold as it is outside. If you want to leave, by all means. But I’m not going to tell you to get out. So, if you’re gonna leave that’s fine. If not, then wonderful, go take a shower.” And with that, Hajime turned back to the dishes Oikawa had distracted him from.

He felt Oikawa’s eyes linger on him a bit longer before the other turned and presumably went on to shower. Hajime exhaled loudly when he heard the bathroom door shut and slumped down against the sink counter, hanging his head with the action. _What the fuck…_

Hajime set the couch up for Oikawa when he finished doing the dishes, a pillow tossed against the left arm of the couch and a blanket folded on top of it with sheets tucked in beneath the cushions. The shower stopped a while after he finished making up the couch and, yawning, Hajime waited for Oikawa to come out.

Opening the bathroom door, Oikawa exits with his clothes piled up in his hands. His hair is still damp, the curls that usually adorn his head relaxing in small chocolate waves that barely bounce as he approached the couch. There was a lot about him that seemed different in that moment. He looked very relaxed, which was something Hajime never really saw him as despite his laid back, casual attitude (well, as casual and laid back that a lanky prostitute could be).

“I needed that,” Oikawa admitted, his voice warm and full. “Thank you, Iwa-chan.”

“Yeah, don’t mention it.” Hajime replied. He gestured to the couch and Oikawa took a seat beside the pillow laid out for him. “You could have put your clothes in the hamper, you know.”

“I’m not going to ask you to do my laundry, Iwa-chan…” Oikawa replied softly.

Hajime bit at the inside of his cheek. “Well, alright, that’s fine I guess. Um… so I guess in the morning, you can come back with me to the restaurant? Or I can drop you off somewhere else if you want.”

“Hm…” Oikawa leaned back against the touch, hesitating with uncertainty before he looked at his host. “Taking me home, feeding me, letting me shower and sleep on your couch, and now this? Why?”

“I don’t understand the question.”

Oikawa glanced away, his eyes now trained on the TV screen, the same channel he had been watching before still running. “It was directed at myself, so don’t worry about it.”

Hajime frowned a bit. “Did I make you uncomfortable?”

“No, why?”

“You just seem like you’re uncomfortable.”

Oikawa smiled a smile that looked too big for his face, and Hajime wasn’t sure if it was real or if Oikawa was just mocking him. “Well, rest assured, I’m perfectly fine. Anyway, you should go to sleep or you’ll be grumpy in the morning, and you’ll be mean to me when I see you tomorrow.” The last bit came out quiet.

Hajime snorted. “Yeah, whatever, okay. Sleep well, Oikawa.” Brown eyes followed him as he turned off the big light and followed with the table lamp on the side of the couch farthest from Oikawa. “See you in the morning.”

“Mhm,” Oikawa replied.

There was a pause in his step, Hajime hesitating to leave the room, at first. “Tobio and I are going to make chocolate chip waffles in the morning, so you have that to look forward to in the morning... If you’re staying all night, that is.”

A soft noise that sounded almost like a laugh came from Oikawa. “You caught that?”

“You’re not very inconspicuous with the way you say things. If you’re going to leave, don’t slam the door. Tobio wakes up easily.”

“Goodnight, Iwa-chan.”

“’Night.”

 

Hajime woke up not to his son shaking him awake, nor his phone alarm, but to the clatter of pans that seeped through his bedroom wall. He sat up immediately, listening closely, and when the sound repeated along with a muffled voice, he jumped out of bed and rushed to his bedroom door. He was ready to fight.

What he saw upon exiting his bedroom was not an intruder though, but rather, Tobio standing on the counter looking frightened and at the floor, while Oikawa stood up by the couch, a hand to his chest, his hair sticking up in various places.

“What is happening, why so much noise,” Hajime hoped his words came out as a whole sentence and not the way it came to his ears—sleepily and entirely incoherent.

“Waffles!” Tobio said from the counter.

“He dropped a pan on the floor and scared me to death,” Oikawa explained, dropping his hand. His eyes trailed up and down Hajime’s half-awake form before he turned his attention back to Tobio.

Yawning, Hajime shook his head as he walked into the kitchen. He picked the pan off of the floor and placed it on the counter beside his son. “Tobs, I told you when I woke up we’d make them. Together…”

“I wanted to surprise you,” pouted the boy when Hajime scooped him off of the countertop.

“Well, one day when you don’t have to stand on the counter to grab a pan, you can make me surprise waffles. But until then, you’re Daddy’s Little Helper.”

Pursed lips and a scrunched-up little nose turned away from Hajime in defeat, and he sighed softly. Hajime looked back over to Oikawa who had a hand on his hip while squinting down at Tobio.

“Tobio, tell Oikawa you’re sorry for waking him up.”

“…Sorry, Oik-san.”

Oikawa still didn’t seem to be a fan of the nickname, but he answered with a short “Meh,” and shrugged.

“So.” Hajime said with another yawn. “I guess since we’re all up, I’ll start on those waffles. Oikawa, how do you like your coffee?”

Tobio followed his father into the kitchen with large strides while Oikawa just sleepy shuffled in after them. He slumped into a chair by the table and set his elbows on the table, propping his chin up in his left hand, “Enough sugar to kill me would be great.”

 

(Iwaizumi Hajime low-key thanks god every day for the waffle iron he got for Christmas two years ago. It made his life easier and quicker when it came to breakfast, especially on days where he wasn’t sure how much time he had to do things but still wanted to make sure Tobio got a good breakfast. Not that Hinata-san wouldn’t feed him if Hajime didn’t have the time to make breakfast, but he always _made_ time.)

With breakfast out of the way and Tobio dropped off at Hinata-san’s house an hour later, it was time to leave. The ride down the elevator was a bit awkward this time around since it wasn’t just Hajime. Oikawa’s right hand fidgeted with the bottom of his hoodie which he put on over the t-shirt Hajime had given him, unsure of if he should speak or stay quiet. Hajime had given him a baggy to lug the rest of his clothes from the previous day around in, and it hung at his left side.

Hajime took a sip from his travel cup as the elevator doors opened and the two men stepped out together. The desk clerk had his head down on the counter, presumably asleep, and Hajime snorted when he and Oikawa passed the desk to get outside.

Once they reached his car, Hajime unlocked the doors and piled into the driver-side while Oikawa slid into the passenger seat. There was light frost covering the windshield and a short silence between the two men as Hajime shoved the key into the ignition and turned the heat up once the car once it started running. Oikawa put the baggy on the floorboard between his feet.

After Hajime pulled out of the parking lot, Oikawa spoke. “Thank you, Iwa-chan.” He said. “For… letting me stay.”

“Yeah, of course.” Hajime responded. He signed relief when the heat actually kicked in and ghosted against their skin. He hesitated before adding, “anytime.”

Oikawa pursed his lips, moving his hands under his legs to warm them up better. “Really? Even after what I tried to do last night?”

“That’s in the past, so forget about it.” Hajime told him. “So yeah. Really.”

The brunet heaved out a heavy breath and smiled, closing his eyes and bowing his head slightly toward the windshield. “You know, as a prostitute, I’m not really seen as an actual human being, but rather, a fuckable piece of trash—”

“Well, stop acting like a piece of trash and you’ll cut the problem in half.”

“Wow, to think I was going to compliment you!” Oikawa pouted. Hajime snickered as the other huffed and looked out his window. “Like I was _saying_ , you’re being awfully nice to me—despite the unnecessary insults, you ass. I still don’t get it, but… I guess… thanks.”

“People deserve to get treated like people. It doesn’t matter what kind of shitty things they’ve done.” Hajime replied, eyes focused on the road. “You know, like, as long as they’re not shitty themselves. If they’ve murdered families or something, fuck ‘em… you get what I’m saying?”

Oikawa hummed, hiding his smile by keeping his gaze out the window. “You ramble a lot, Iwa-chan.”

“I don’t usually talk about stuff like this.”

“Well, most people don’t usually befriend prostitutes over a period of months either, so, I guess we can say you’re unusual.”

Hajime shrugged. “I guess so.” And then, “Where do you want me to take you? I never asked.”

“Um… you can just drive to work if you don’t care to let your coworkers see me hop out of your car like a freshly washed whore.”

“I mean, when you put it like _that_.”

Oikawa could no longer hide his smile, especially not after laughing at Hajime’s tone. “I’ll get out when you do if that’s okay.”

“Okay.”

There’s a silence after that and Hajime decided to fill it by turning the radio up. He offered it to Oikawa with a vague gesture when they came to that awful fucking red-light, and Oikawa took immediate interest in finding the perfect station. Hajime figured just as much—Oikawa seemed like the type of guy to listen to pop.

The clouds that threatened snow still clung to the atmosphere, though patches of post-sunrise sky could be seen scattered about. Hajime made a mental-note to check the weather on his phone some time that day since he never had the time to watch the news for a weather check in the morning. In the distance Hajime could see the restaurant and sighed inwardly, though the music Oikawa was listening to would have drowned out whatever noise of distress he made anyway. Oikawa tensed up when Hajime pulled into his regular parking spot. He was gnawing at his bottom lip until Hajime pulled his key from the ignition, turning the car off.

“Are you alright?”

He watched Oikawa breath in and out, his chest rising and falling heavily and his eyes shutting, lashes fluttering against his cheeks. He sat there for a moment with his eyes closed, leaving Hajime tempted to repeat his question.

And then, Oikawa snapped his gaze toward him, brown eyes bright and full of mischief rather than whatever aura he had floating about him just seconds ago. “You make me alright, Iwa-chan~ I had fun last night, thank you for taking such good care of me.”

Hajime’s brows furrowed. “You’re weird.”

“I’m a fucking delight,” Oikawa boasted. He unbuckled his seatbelt and slapped his hands to Hajime’s shoulders with more force than intended. “Anyway~! I’ll see you later, mm?”

“Oh, right, it’s time to start acting again.” Hajime noted. Oikawa smirked, giving him his answer. “You sure know how to play a steaming wad of trash.”

“Meeeean,”

“Get out of my car.”

Giggling, Oikawa leaned forward and kissed the tip of Hajime’s nose. When he pulled away, he looked as though he were confused by his own action—Hajime was too, don’t get him wrong. Oikawa retracted his arms awkwardly and reached behind him to open his door. “I’ll, um. Yeah. Bye.” And he left in a hurry, baggy in his hands as he vanished behind the thick layer of trees that separated the restaurant from wherever the hell Oikawa disappeared to all day.

“…So fucking weird.”

 

“Iwaizumi-san, you can head out, I’ve got the rest of this covered,”

Hajime looked up from the pan-fried fish he was currently dealing with. His favorite coworker Yaku stood there, hands gloved and eyes sharp. “You sure?”

“Yeah, you’ve been here since, what, seven? I’ll take the grill off your hands. Kiddo’s probably missing you, anyway.”

Hajime knew there was a reason he liked Yaku. “Alright, thanks Yaku.”

“Mm.”

Hajime stepped to the side and let Yaku take the fish into his own hands. He slid out of the kitchen and into the side room where all the employee’s let their things that could get in the way during cooking and searched for his coat. Thanks to Oikawa, Hajime had the tune of some pop song stuck in his head that he couldn’t stop humming the entire time he was at work. He stuffed his hands through the sleeves of his coat and clocked out afterwards. Bidding his coworkers a goodbye, he went out through the back door.

Snow. Not a lot, and not thick enough to stick, but it was certainly snowing. The tiny white flakes clung to his hair and coat as he walked across the lot to his car. The puffs of air he saw when he exhaled made him smile, thinking of the first time Tobio had experienced the outside chill making his breath visible. He had said something like _Daddy, I’m like a dragon, but with ice! Are those real? Are ice dragons real, Daddy?_

The cool night air stung his hands when he unlocked his car, and the inside of his car wasn’t much warmer than outside, but he was protected from the chill of the wind and the snow when he slid into the front seat, so he couldn’t complain. After turning his car on, he sat for a minute with his hands in front of the vent and let them defrost. The radio was on the same level of volume it was from when he’d gotten to work earlier that day.

And the same damn pop song was playing again.

Hajime scratched the back of his head, trying to select a lyric line he could use to look the song up later—if it was going to be stuck in his head, he might as well enjoy it. After the song ended, which gave him some time for the heater to warm up his car, Hajime looked back up at the windshield and started to back out of the parking lot.

He stopped before making the turn that brings him into the road to check the time on his phone, but the loud knock on his window almost made him through the device on the floor. He turned his head to peer through the glass at the shivering figure.

_Oikawa…?_

Hajime rolled down his window and Oikawa panted, his breaths short but visible by the cold air. “Thank god—I thought you were going to keep driving.”

“Well, I mean, I was on my way home, so…” He noticed, just barely due to lack of light, the wet streaks that slid unevenly down Oikawa’s pale cheeks. “Are you alright?”

“Aha, well, um…” Oikawa’s voice cracked nervously. “Y-you know how you said I could come over anytime?”

Nodding, Hajime gave a nod in the direction of the passenger seat. “Get in already.”

“You’re the best, Iwa-chan~” Oikawa played off his shivering as a smooth attempt at posing before he darted around to the other side of the car and pulled the door open. Hajime rolled his window back up and turned to Oikawa, the light of the car showing him off. He had on a thicker coat and was still wearing the sweatpants Hajime had given him the night before.

“Nice coat.” Hajime observed, avoiding the obvious question as he pulled out of the restaurant’s parking lot.

Oikawa beamed. “Thank you, I… borrowed it.”

“No comment.” Hajime leaned forward and turned the radio down now that the song from before was over.

“From a friend!” Insisted the brunet.

“Again, no comment on how fake that sounds.”

Oikawa grumbled something under his breath as Hajime drove.

“So. We’ll probably have ramen for dinner because I don’t feel like cooking,” Hajime explained casually. Oikawa bobbed his head. “Tobio’s probably going to ask you to watch that movie with him again.”

“Ah, I actually honestly forgot about the little snot…” Brows furrowing, Hajime shot a look at Oikawa, but he didn’t notice. “It’d be my luck that he won’t just knock out again like he did yesterday.”

“Ya know, I’m not a fan of your tone.”

“Sorry,” Oikawa amended, though he doesn’t sound all that sorry. “I’m not good with kids, Iwa-chan.”

“You were fine with him last night. He really liked you.”

Oikawa’s expression became perplexed and he grew quiet from Hajime’s statement. He looked away, deep in thought, and Hajime took the silence gratefully as he drove the rest of the way home. He wanted to ask Oikawa what happened, but he didn’t want to pry on something that had nothing to do with him.

But it still bothered him that whatever it was had made Oikawa cry.

He tried to ignore that it bothered him.

The snowflakes got visibly bigger on their way to Hajime’s apartment, and when he pulled into the parking lot it had started sticking to the grass around the pavement and the pavement itself. It still wasn’t very thick though. Not enough to stick. Not enough for Hajime to call out of work the next day for. Not enough for him to stay home with Tobio.

Oikawa was still silent even after they’d gotten out of the car and made their way to the doors of the complex. Hajime led the way, Oikawa following like a singular duckling after its mother, and this time the desk clerk actually looked at them as they passed, raising a hand to wave. Hajime waved back, Oikawa paid no attention.

The elevator ride up was quiet, too. Oikawa’s gears were turning. When they got to the right floor, Hajime pulled his keys out and handed them to Oikawa. “I’m going to pick Tobio up from my neighbor, you unlock the door.”

“Okay.”

And that’s what they did. Tobio was excited to see Oikawa again, even going so far as to pull Shouyou out of the Hinata’s apartment past Hajime and introduce them. Oikawa smiled a little too much at the small ginger before he went inside of Hajime’s apartment.

“He seems… nice,” Hinata-san noted after Shouyou had come back inside.

“He’s… not awful.” Hajime promised. Hinata-san just smiled. “Anyway, thank you as always for keeping Tobio.”

“He’s always welcome. You three have a nice night.”

“You, too.”

Hajime pulled Tobio along with him after he shouted a goodbye at Shouyou, who shouted back and was joined by Natsu. The two walked into the apartment and Tobio ran straight to the couch, pouncing onto Oikawa’s lap excitedly.

“You’re sleeping over again, Oik-san!?”

Oikawa cringed at the nickname, smiling in a sickeningly sweet way that Hajime didn’t like very much, but ignored as he shut the door. “Yeah, Tobio- _chan_. I am.” He looked at Hajime for confirmation, _just to be sure_.

Walking past them with a nod, Hajime took to the kitchen. “Ramen night, Tobio.”

“Hooray!”

And then, smiling to himself, Hajime called out. “Hey, why don’t you two watch that movie while I get dinner ready?”

Oikawa’s thousand-yard stare was not stronger than the joyful gasp that came from Tobio as he ran off to his room to get the DVD.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's 7:30am but i fucking did it.
> 
> also, very important note: happy birthday akaashi keiji.


	3. stay a while

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Why don’t you just stop already?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY shit.
> 
> i would like to formally apologize that this took so long. i had every intention of a fast update, but motivation is unreliable. hopefully it wont take so long next time.
> 
> anyway, enough of that, lemmie tell y'all a thing. i was 3k deep into this chapter, and the reason it took so long was because i wasnt confident in what I had but i was a little attached and after writing _that_ much, it's like, what's the point of getting rid of it? I'll tell you the point: it was Not Good. so rewriting it all was a struggle but it was worth it.
> 
> okay, if you didn't skip this than you're a doll (even if you did skip it you're still a doll), so thank you for being patient and listening to my endless list of excuses. (:

Over the course of the next week, Oikawa had ended up taking up Hajime’s couch a lot. At this point, Hajime couldn’t turn the other away when Oikawa asked him if he could stay. And it wasn’t like Tobio cared—he really enjoyed Oikawa’s company, even if Oikawa looked visibly uncomfortable (and annoyed) when the boy was near him. As long as Tobio was alright, Hajime decided Oikawa was too.

Each day had a similar routine to it; the three would eat breakfast, Hajime would get Tobio ready and send him off to Hinata-san’s, and then he and Oikawa would head out toward the restaurant, where Hajime saw him off. Oikawa always came back around the time Hajime’s shift ended which led into a slightly awkward conversation that ended with the prostitute happily sliding into the passenger seat and warming his hands when the car was turned on.

Not to mention, Tobio was  _always_  excited to see Oikawa when they got back to the apartment.

 

Hajime folded his arms, eyes narrowing at the duo standing between him and his locker in the side room. They were grinning deviously, more so at each other than at him, and he huffed.

“You guys still have tables to wait on.” He told them, becoming increasingly frustrated the longer they stood in his way.

“Aw, what’s the rush, Iwaizumi?” One of the waiters replied, leaning against the other.

“My shifts over? I want to go home?”

The other waiter rolled his eyes. “You can go home in a minute. You never talk to us anymore.”

Hajime tried to sidestep them, to move around them, but was stopped by a hand blocking his way. He sighed, furrowing his brows. “Hanamaki. Matsukawa. I want to go home.”

“And you can!” Hanamaki promised, patting Hajime’s shoulder repeatedly until the assistant chef was fully in front of the pair again. “In a _minute._ ”

Matsukawa hummed, pleased when Hajime stayed put in front of the two of them. “Okay, good, now that we’ve got your attention…” he drifted, purposely to watch Hajime scowl, and snorted. “What’s the deal with you and Hooker-chan?”

Hajime’s expression faltered, softening for a moment before glaring at Matsukawa. “His name is Oikawa.”

“They must be close,” Hanamaki snickered, elbowing the taller waiter.

“Stop. It’s not like that.” Hajime defended, resisting the urge to ball his hands into fists and use them.

“Ooh, then what _is_ it like, Iwaizumi?” Matsukawa mused, bringing a hand to his chin and raising his eyebrows to feign interest. Beside him, Hanamaki tilted his head to the side as if to look interested. “Because to us, it looks like you take him home with you every day.”

“He’s always been after you,” claimed Hanamaki when Hajime didn’t respond. “Before you finally caved—what was it he asked you that one time, Mattsun?”

The taller waiter snickered, dropping his hand from his chin. “Something like ‘oh, is Iwa-chan here? I didn’t see him! Tell him I said hi~,’” Matsukawa had a lilt to his voice, attempting to mimic Oikawa. Hajime frowned.

“How come he gets a special nickname to call you? We’ve known you for two years. It’s not fair.” Hanamaki complained with a pout, and Matsukawa nodded beside him looking equally as offended.

Hajime just glared at them. They were wasting his time, standing there being assholes and taking shit about things they didn’t understand.

Upon realizing he wasn’t going to dignify them with a response, Hanamaki let his shoulders drop and Matsukawa sighed. The tallest of the three placed his hands on his hips, narrowing his eyes. “Seriously though, Iwaizumi. If you’re not fuckin’ him, what’s going on?”

“He’s a person.” Hajime stated simply. “And he deserves to be treated like one.”

“That doesn’t explain why you take him home at night—” Hanamaki started.

“—Or why you bring him back in the morning.” Matsukawa finished.

They were both silent again after that, shifting under Hajime’s softening glare but not budging from their place between him and his things. They both looked like they were thinking hard, trying to find the correct words to whatever they wanted to say.

Eventually, a sigh fell from Hanamaki’s lips, and he shrugged before stepping off to the side to walk around Hajime. “Just don’t do something stupid, dude.”

Matsukawa followed behind him, firmly patting Hajime’s shoulder as he passed. “Yeah, _Iwa-chan;_ you have a kid at home, after all.”

Hajime stood in the room alone after that, eyes narrowed and staring forward as he let their words sink in, then grabbed his coat from its spot and shoved his arms through the sleeves. Silently, he walked through the backdoor to the darkening outside, ignoring the goodbyes that Matsukawa and Hanamaki cooed at him.

Matsukawa and Hanamaki meant well, he knew, but they could have gone about it in a better, less snarky way. They didn’t _know_ Oikawa—not that Hajime really did either, but that wasn’t the point. Oikawa was a good guy… he just wasn’t able to act like it.

Outside, Oikawa was leaning against the side of Hajime’s car, playing with his fingers. The brunet looked up at him when he heard footsteps, and smiled a sickeningly sweet smile.

“Evening, Iwa-chan,” he hummed.

“Mhm,” replied Hajime, unlocking the doors from the small distance he was away from the car.

He noted, as he got closer, that Oikawa was standing funny once he’d stopped leaning against the car. He had his weight shifted to one side, hand positioned closer to his ribs rather than displayed on his hip. He looked… hurt.

Hajime climbed into the car, saying nothing because he knew Oikawa would follow, which he did. Though, there was hesitation as the brunet pulled the passenger side door open.

Oikawa winced when he sat down.

 _Don’t say anything—it’s not your place to say anything,_ Hajime told himself as he pulled out of the restaurant parking lot. It wasn’t, really, and he knew that, but that didn’t stop him from wanting to. It ate at him, because Oikawa looked like he was in pain but was trying to play it off with that outrageously fake smile of his.

Hajime saw Oikawa cringe from the corner of his eyes, the brunet’s slender fingers twitching almost cautiously over the same place near his ribs. Oikawa’s brows furrowed, nose scrunching up at the top, a tiny huff of a noise escaping his slightly parted lips when he pressed his fingers against the spot.

“What happened?” Hajime intended to go with _are you okay,_ but the straightforward approach had a better effect on Oikawa.

Well, it got a reaction out of him, at least. He quickly placed both hands in his lap, his right over his left. Hajime’s eyes narrowed at the silence. Honestly he didn’t want to press, but…

“Talk to me,” he requested, rather than trying to force it out of him. “What happened?”

Oikawa did answer this time, starting out with a breath of a laugh like something was _funny_. “Oh, just your standard ‘Go Big or Go Home’ kind of guy. He grabbed me in the wrong place but I didn’t have the heart to tell him to move his hand…” He trailed off, turning his head toward Hajime, expression sad despite the small smile now in the place of the previous one. “It’s just a bruise, probably.”

“ _Probably_ ,” Hajime repeated, snorting indignantly, his grip on the wheel tightening.

Chocolate curls bounced when Oikawa shook his head, gracing Hajime with another laugh. “Don’t act so worried, Iwa-chan. I may start to believe you.”

Silence filled the vehicle, leaving an almost stinging air of tension between them. Hajime frowned, pulling to a stop at that damn red-light, knuckles whitening from his vice-grip on the wheel. What Oikawa was insinuating was offensive.

He looked toward the prostitute, green eyes piercing through him enough that Oikawa had to turn away. Hajime started to feel awful for multiple reasons—one being that Oikawa didn’t think he cared. Another was that Oikawa obviously didn’t trust him that much. Given his situation though… it was understandable.

“Hey, Oikaw—” Hajime tried, only to be cut off by the blaring horn of the car behind him. He looked forward—oh. The light was green. Of course. Looking up, he glared at the driver of the other car through the rearview mirror.

What should he say? What was he _supposed_ to say?

Hanamaki and Matsukawa’s words still resonated in Hajime’s head.

_“That doesn’t explain why you take him home at night—”_

_“—Or why you bring him back in the morning.”_

…Because he doesn’t deserve how badly he’s treated.

Hajime swallowed, loosening his hold on the wheel a bit. _That doesn’t explain why you take him home at night, or why you bring him back in the morning._

_“What’s the deal with you and Hooker-chan?”_

“Do you have any painkillers, Iwa-chan?” Oikawa asked him softly, pulling him from his thoughts. He was still looking out the window, gaze soft with lidded eyes. “I usually don’t need them,” he continued quietly, “but my side feels like it’s on fire.”

Hajime’s jaw tightened. “Why don’t you just _stop_ already?”

Oikawa’s eyes widened at the question. “I—sorry, I’ll be quiet—” He’d misunderstood.

“No. I mean.” Hajime frowned, pulling into the apartment’s parking lot. “I mean, why don’t you just stop _this._ Stop… selling yourself like this.”

He got a hard sigh from Oikawa, which was slowly followed by a bitter laugh. “Why would I want to stop? It’s the best job in the world you know; I absolutely love every perk and prick that comes with the job!”

 _“Oikawa_ ,” Hajime spoke firmly, but it was ineffective.

“I mean, really—” he huffed, forcing out another laugh. “Who doesn’t want to get paid to get fucked, right? I love it! It’s one hell of an experience, Iwa-cha—”

“Enough!”

His shout startled Oikawa into silence, the brunet flinching. Hajime hesitated before he spoke again, trying to keep his voice level and calm, because scaring Oikawa was not something he wanted to do.

“Love it or not, you can’t even sit down normally. And you wouldn’t come to me every night if you were living it up.” Hajime wasted no time once he’d started, staring out the windshield with narrowed eyes. Oikawa just stared at him, lips parted in surprise. “You know it’s true.”

Parted lips quickly shut, forming a tight, thin line, and Oikawa looked back down at his lap. He was quiet for a long time. Hajime didn’t press. When Oikawa did speak, his voice was wavering a bit. “Even if it _is_ true… I can’t just stop. Being a whore is, like, ingrained in me… and…”

He paused, fingers curling against his thighs as if speaking had become a struggle and making fists would help him take his words back.

“And,” he repeated, brows furrowing. “It’s not like I have anywhere else to go.”

Responding on impulse was something Hajime may or may not be known for. “Yes you do.”

After a moment of Oikawa mulling over what Hajime had just said, his eyes widened as if he’d just realized the weight of the offer. He turned his head slowly, thinking _perhaps_ if he moved too fast, everything would disappear and he’d wake up from another too-good-to-be-true dream.

“…Really?” He whispered. Speaking too loudly would wake him from the dream, too.

“You practically already live with me,” Hajime murmured. “So it’s not like anything would be that different.”

“But… Tobio.”

“I already told you: he likes you. He’d be beyond happy if you _actually_ stayed.” Hajime was getting ahead of himself.

“I-Iwa-chan,” the brunet’s voice broke off. He didn’t speak again until green eyes were on him. “…Why are you so nice to me?”

“People who leave other people behind really piss me off.” He admitted, a particular person in mind, but shrugged her off with a sigh. He gave Oikawa a gentle smile. “And I want to help you in any way I can.”

Oikawa barely let him finish speaking before hooking his arms around Hajime, practically throwing himself over the center console. A pained noise slipped from his lips, the way he’d moved so quickly agitating the pain near his ribs.

“What the hell Oik—”

“No, just—” Okay, he was crying. “Give me a second, please. I-I’m overwhelmed.”

He tightened his hold, hugging tighter and buried his face into Hajime’s shoulder. In return, Hajime brought his hand up to Oikawa’s back, giving a tentative pat.

Oikawa sniffled. “I’m so gross, shit—I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.”

Oikawa pulled back, retracting his arms until his hands could sit upon Hajime’s shoulders. His eyes were glossy and tearful, cheeks already stained. He sniffled again, but then he smiled, and it was the most authentic smile Hajime had ever seen from him.

 

As expected, Tobio was ecstatic at the news of Oikawa staying longer. He told Oikawa they were going to watch _every_ Ghibli ever made. Ever. He told him that if Oikawa wanted to, he could sleep in his room because the couch is small and “your legs are longer than the Howl’s!” to which, Oikawa didn’t understand, but Hajime didn’t bother to explain when he went off to the kitchen to start dinner.

Tobio told Oikawa they were going to be best friends. It was almost touching.

Almost.

During dinner Oikawa spaced out, and it didn’t go unnoticed. While Tobio did his five-year-old best to describe the plot of Kiki’s Delivery Service, Hajime eyed Oikawa in attempt to figure out what was on his mind. It wasn’t hard to guess really—he was still dazed about the offer Hajime had given him.

Hajime didn’t really think much of it. A safe place to stay, food, kindness; basically human needs. He couldn’t wrap his head around why _Oikawa_ couldn’t wrap his head around that.

“Sorry you have to sleep on the couch,” Hajime apologized a bit later, Tobio out cold in his arms.

“No don’t be, it’s really comfy,” Oikawa assured him, flopping down onto the familiar sofa.

“If you say so.” Hajime adjusted Tobio in his arms, arms folded beneath him, and the boy shifted slightly, smacking his lips together in his sleep. “After I put him to bed, I need to talk to you about some things.”

Oikawa’s shoulders tensed up, but he nodded.

Hajime frowned at the reaction. Every little thing seemed to bother Oikawa. It was understandable, but… Hajime just wished that the other wasn’t so fearful of him.

In Tobio’s room, Hajime tucked the boy in and sat down on the edge of his mattress for a moment. Tobio’s breathing remained soft and calm, already in a deep sleep. He’d dozed off almost directly after his bath, head drooping over his plate while in the midst of eating being a hint that sooner to bed was better than later.

Hajime brought a hand to his son’s forehead, brushing Tobio’s bangs back with gentle fingers. Soft black hair, deep blue eyes, long eyelashes; Tobio looked too much like his mother. At times, Hajime saw her when he looked at his son, and it hurt a little bit.

Why couldn’t he just look a _bit_ more like his father? Why couldn’t he have dark brown hair instead of black, or green eyes, or less narrowed eyes, or a slightly rounder nose?

Well, the answer to that was simple, really. He wouldn’t be Tobio if that was the case. And even if Hajime wished sometimes that Tobio didn’t remind him so much of Aki… he wouldn’t have it any other way.

It was a little weird to walk out of Tobio’s bedroom and know someone would be waiting for him. Usually when Hajime had company, they’d stay until Tobio knocked out and then leave before Hajime went to tuck his son in, just because said company could get fairly loud when excited, and said company didn’t want to wake the child.

So stepping back into the living room and seeing the back of Oikawa’s head over the couch made him feel… weirdly nervous. Anxious.

Oikawa heard him coming, turning his head to watch Hajime step around the couch to sit beside the brunet. He looked a bit anxious too, matching the way Hajime’s insides knotted up a bit, probably having a hard time swallowing what was vaguely the phrase “we need to talk.”

“Hi.” Oikawa broke the ice. “He still asleep?”

“Yeah. Once he’s out, he’s out.”

“Cool,”

“Yeah,”

“Yeah.”

Good start.

Oikawa shifted a little, wincing as he did. “So… what did you need to talk about?”

Hajime opened his mouth to speak, but Oikawa went on.

“If you’re having second thoughts about this, that’s fine! I understand—of course it would happen, I mean, have you seen me? Have you seen _you_? You have a kid, why would you want someone like—”

“Oikawa—”

“Me—yeah! Someone like me, _Oikawa_ , to stay here anymore than I already have? If I’m being a burden, just say so and I’ll be out of your hair, Iwa-chan.”

Hajime narrowed his eyes. “I’m not having second thoughts.”

Oikawa’s jaw tightened. “Oh… then, what did you want to talk about…?”

“Some… ground rules I guess. For staying here.”

The brunet nodded rapidly, relief washing over him. “Okay, yeah, okay!”

Hajime hadn’t really thought this through enough to be able to recite the rules. What even would they be? Don’t be gross, especially around Tobio, but… what else could there be?

“Um… okay, so, since you’re going to be staying here,” Hajime began, trying to buy some time. “You… alright. Okay. Rule one, you get one strike with Tobio and then you’re out.”

Oikawa raised an eyebrow. “Strike?”

“Like, if you say something nasty in front of him. If he repeats something inappropriate he heard you say, or—just be nice to my son, Oikawa. He likes you, and I know you don’t really care for him, but he’s all I have.” Hajime finished, looking a bit exasperated. “One strike is all you get.”

“That’s fair.” Oikawa mumbled. It really was, he knew, considering Tobio was Hajime’s heart, but he couldn’t help but be a little salty (more than likely due to the accusation that he’d do anything bad around Tobio). “What else?”

“Job.”

“I saw it coming, honestly…” Oikawa nodded again. “Alright… but can you help me? Everyone in town that knows me either hates me or _knows_ me, if you know what I mean.” He looked down at his lap, pursing his lips. “So, getting a job would be… tough. Especially without any references; I can’t just go up to my old boss and ask him to sign away all my good qualities and lie through his teeth about what a diligent and trusty employee I am…”

That was true.

“Also, _who_ would hire me? I’m an actual mess. I don’t have any nice clothes,” Oikawa lifted a hand, counting off the issues on his fingers. “I don’t have good social skills unless you count flirting and lying, which I don’t think you’d count that. My education level goes up to my Third Year in high school and that won’t do shit for me, will it.” It wasn’t a question.

Hajime thought over it. Oikawa was right, after all. All of those things would be important when it came to job hunting. But he could help him, surely. He knew some people, some places, some things.

“I’ll take you shopping for clothes next weekend, I guess.” He said, mulling over the thought for a bit. “And I have a few friends who could probably pull some strings… but you have to be on your best behavior, Oikawa.”

The other lifted his head at that, giving Hajime a shit-eating grin. “Aren’t I always?”

Hajime just blinked at him, which caused Oikawa to slump back against the couch, breathing out something like a laugh.

“Anyway. I’ll think of more things later, but that’s it for now. Be nice to Tobio and try to get back on your feet.”

“I can do that… Oh… that reminds me.” Oikawa gazed at him, brown eyes observing. “Do you work tomorrow?”

Hajime nodded.

“…You’re not going to make me stay here with Tobio, are you?”

The brunet sounded really uneasy as he spoke, voice wavering a bit when getting the question out.

“No,”

“…Okay.”

“He’ll be at Hinata-san’s tomorrow, even if you’re here. I’m not going to ask you to watch him, so don’t worry—” Hajime explained, cutting himself off with a yawn. “Shit. Okay. It’s been a long day, Oikawa. I want to go to bed.”

Oikawa awkwardly extended his arms, his gaze shifting away as he wordlessly asked for a goodnight hug. Hajime stared at him, then at his arms, then at his face again. That was weird. Oikawa was so bizarrely affectionate at the most unusual of times…

Leaning in, Hajime awkwardly half-hugged him, one arm moving behind Oikawa to pat his back while the brunet drew his arms around Hajime and pressed his face against his shoulder.

Pat. Pat. Pat. _You can let go now, Oikawa._

When Hajime moved back, Oikawa let go immediately, jerking his arms back to his sides.

“Go-good night, Iwa-chan,” he stuttered, then cringed to curse at himself.

“Goodnight, Oikawa.”

Hajime lifted himself from the couch, but paused before moving anymore. He reached out subconsciously— _what are you doing?—_ and lowered his hand on the top of Oikawa’s head. Pat. Pat. Pat.

_What the fuck are you doing, Hajime?_

He retracted his hand awkwardly; Oikawa stared up at him, looking a bit confused and somewhere between pleased and excited.

“…Yeah, goodnight.”

 

Hajime woke up to Tobio crawling into his bed just before his alarm was meant to go off. Tobio curled up beside him, laying his head on Hajime’s bicep and stared at him with sleepy blue eyes until his father’s phone made a shrill noise, truly waking him up.

“Daddy,” Tobio whispered, poking his cheek as the other attempted to blink the sleep from his eyes. “There’s coffee.”

“Mhh… w…what? What?” He wasn’t fully awake yet, but the mention of coffee helped a little. And confused him.

“Oik-san made breakfast,” the child answered. “Eggies.”

Hajime sat up, arms straightening out and Tobio falling back into the bed. Oikawa made breakfast?

“He told me to tell you.” Explained the child, kicking his feet into the blanket until they were covered. “But you were sleeping, so I waited!”

Bringing a hand up to his mouth, Hajime yawned and slid off of his bed. He scratched beneath his chin, then brought both arms over his head to stretch, letting his back pop.

“Fingers, too.” Tobio sat up then, wiggling his feet beneath the blanket. “Don’t forget fingers, daddy.”

“Right.” Hajime popped the joints in his knuckles, then turned to reach for his son, who practically jumped into his arms.

He brought them out of his bedroom, Tobio on his hip and rambling about his dream. The scent of fried eggs wafted through the kitchen and living room, and down the hall enough for Hajime’s stomach to growl at the aroma.

“You made breakfast?” He asked.

Oikawa looked over his shoulder, a pleased smile on his face. “I did! It’s… just fried eggs, because I’m not a chef like you, and I didn’t want to waste a bunch of sh—erm. A bunch of stuff just to burn it! At least with eggs you can salt them to make them better, yeah?”

Hajime sat Tobio down in his chair at the table and moved to the coffee maker. Thank god.

“You made coffee, too.”

“Yeah, daddy, I said he did!” Tobio huffed as though offended. His gaze shifted over to Oikawa, who watched Hajime with a somewhat fond, somewhat amused expression. “His ears don’t work super good in the morning, Oik-san.”

“Ah, I don’t think that’s it. They’re just not awake yet.” Oikawa hummed.

Breakfast wasn’t awful. Oikawa was right, you could definitely fix eggs with salt if need be. They weren’t bad, really, just… plain. Hajime was just thankful for the fact that Oikawa thought ahead and made coffee.

He had to shower fast—Oikawa had taken up the shower that night, which was fine, and Tobio had gotten his bath after dinner, leaving Hajime with the option to either take a shower way too late and cold at night, wait until morning, or wait until he got home.

Morning was the best choice. It helped him wake up more anyway.

Hajime got Tobio dressed and ready while Oikawa did his best to clean the kitchen (“Iwa-chan, there’s egg stuck to this pan!” “Use the rough side of the sponge.” “…Where’s the sponge?” “By the faucet.” “Haha, oh, I knew that.”).

Tobio opted to bring his favorite story book over to the Hinata’s so that he could have Shouyou’s mother read it to them when she wanted them to nap, because “her made up stories aren’t as good as yours, daddy.”

And then it was time to go.

“So,” Hajime started, Tobio bouncing around beside him, excited to go to Shouyou’s. “You know there’s stuff in the fridge if you get hungry, um… if you need anything—oh, here, let me give you my number—”

Oikawa shook his head. “Iwa-chan, I don’t have a phone.”

“Oh.”

“Honestly, who would I need to call?” He snorted, leaving the rest of what he wanted to say to Hajime’s imagination.

“…Okay, I guess that makes sense.” Tobio pulled on his hand, trying to get him to budge out the door. It was no use, but he tried anyway. “When I take you clothes shopping, I guess I can get you a phone, too.”

“You don’t have to…”

“I know.” Hajime shrugged. Tobio wined at him to hurry up, and his father sighed. He looked back to Oikawa. “I guess if you need anything, you can always ask Hinata-san. Okay?”

Oikawa nodded. “Yessir.”

Oikawa waved them off and shut the door behind them. Tobio marched beside his father, taking large strides to match the other’s. He gave him a big smile as they moved down the hall.

“What’s Tobluberry so happy about, mm?” Hajime asked before knocking on his neighbor’s door.

“Oik-san is nice.” He said, squeezing Hajime’s hand. “He gave us eggs. I like him.”

“I know you do.”

“Do you like him?”

Hajime pursed his lips. “He’s alright.”

He tapped his knuckles against the door, and soon after, the sounds of tiny feet running around came from the other side. Shouyou shouted an excited “Tobio’s here!” from inside, and a moment later the door opened. Hinata-san smiled at the two, bringing a finger to her lips as she welcomed Tobio inside.

“Natsu’s still asleep, so play quietly for now, alright?”

Tobio nodded. He turned quickly, hugging Hajime’s leg with a quick I love you, then ran inside to join Shouyou in running around the couch.

Hajime handed Tobio’s storybook out to Hinata-san. “He’d like if you read this to them when they get ready to take their naps.”

She took the colorful book and looked it over silently, flipping through the pages full of small drawings about a knight fighting a dragon and saving a princess—fairytale shit. Closing the book, she looked up at him.

“Can do… Where’s _he_?”

“…Oikawa?”

“Mhm. Did he not come with you last night?”

“He… he did.”

Hajime explained what had happened. Every detail, from the way Oikawa had winced when sitting in the car to that morning. Every single detail. He hesitated before telling her that he’d offered her as to Oikawa as his “if you need anything” contact, but she didn’t look bothered by it at all. In fact, it only made her smile more.

“If half the people in this world were as kind as you, I wonder much it would change,” she hummed, turning on her heel. “Don’t dally any more, Iwaizumi-kun. You’re going to be late for work if you do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI WE HAVE AN IMPORTANT CHARACTER SHOWING UP NEXT CHAPTER WOOHOO
> 
>  
> 
> ~~and hopefully it wont take me almost 2 months to write it, but i'm fucking grounded so lmao lets see how that goes.~~


	4. catching up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Thrilling conversationalist you are, Iwaizumi-san. You have me hanging on every word.”
> 
> In which, Iwaizumi tries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM NOT DEAD AND THIS STORY IS NOT ON HIATUS I PROMISE.
> 
> there's not much of oikawa this chapter and also there's a lot of dialogue... this chapter is like 90% dialogue...... but thats ok........ everyone loves witty conversations.

Hajime blinked rapidly at the sight before him. He couldn’t speak—didn’t know if they’d care to listen when he tried. He wasn’t even sure if they knew he was there. But he was fully aware of his own presence as his heart thudded violently, like a snare drum.

The sight of Aki and Tobio together was strangely terrifying.

“You look just like Mommy, don’t you?” She hummed, lifting her hand to his forehead and brushing his bangs back. A smile pulled at her lips. “Much more than you look like Daddy.”

“Mhm!”

_Please don’t touch him._

Her eyes shifted, now gazing at Hajime, though it felt much more like she was looking _through_ him. Her smile fell momentarily, even as Tobio chirped happily at the hand slowly moving back through his hair. Aki smiled again, not giving Hajime much time to think before she spoke.

“Hajime,” she said. Her voice was so clear, exactly like it sounded the last time he heard her. “ _Hajime_ ,”

 _Why are you here?_ He tried, but what came out was “I missed you.”

 _Don’t touch my son_ , he strained, though what he said was “I’m happy.”

Aki’s expression softened as she rose from the couch, pulling her hand back from Tobio’s head. She walked toward Hajime slowly, hands folded in front of her, eyes as haunting as ever.

When she stopped, his breath caught in his throat. She looked as beautiful as she always had, even when she’d begun to scowl.

“Aki,” Hajime breathed, finally able to speak on his own.

_“I don't want to be a mother, Hajime.”_

Everything felt like static.

“ _He's got you_.” She told him, reiterating as if he didn’t remember.

“Don’t.” Was all he managed.

_“I’m leaving.”_

“Why?”

She didn’t miss a beat. “I don’t want him.”

Tobio stared down at his lap, swinging his legs, fingers curling into the cushion.

“ _Aki_.”

“I never wanted him.”

“Aki,” Hajime’s voice wavered. The staticy feeling became thicker. Everything was fuzzy, vaguely distorted. Uncomfortable. “Please.”

“I don’t want this,” she told him. Her hand drew back, gesturing toward Tobio. Her eyes narrowed, blue peeking out from behind long black eyelashes. “I never did.”

He couldn’t speak again.

“I don’t want _you._ ”

* * *

Hajime’s eyes shot open, his fingers digging into the sheets and his lips parted in half of an attempt to call out to _her_ one last time. His bedroom ceiling looked the same as ever, so he wished he could stop staring so hopelessly at it.

He exhaled loudly. What a fucking dream. Not that he wasn’t used to dreams like that, though. They came sporadically, some worse than others. Hajime sat up, his sheet falling and pooling at his waist when he brought his hand up and ran it back through his hair. He hoped this wouldn’t end up being a bad day…

Tobio giggling loudly threw him off. He narrowed his eyes, quickly throwing his legs off the side off his bed to stand and surged toward the door and down the hall and—

“Good morning, Daddy!” Tobio beamed.

A very groggy, very in-need-of-coffee Oikawa stood on the other side of the couch with Tobio sitting on his shoulders. Tobio’s small hands were placed on top of Oikawa’s head, somewhat twisted into the crazy bedhead-like state of the brunet’s curls.

Hajime had never been so relieved to see Oikawa.

“Morning,” Hajime greeted slowly. “What’s… all this?” He gestured at them with a finger, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

“Oik-san is my pony!” Announced the boy, triumphantly.

“I made the mistake of confirming I was awake when he asked.” Oikawa explained dryly.

Walking toward them, Hajime grinned and extended his arms. Tobio twisted around Oikawa, pulling the other’s hair on accident as he jerked forward in an attempt to propel himself into his father’s arms. The action resulted in Oikawa stumbling forward, stifling a swear when lifting his arms to get a hold of Tobio to keep him from falling.

Once Tobio was handed off to Hajime in a safer manner, Oikawa yawned heavily into his hand. He blinked slowly, dropping his hand, and then whined. “Iwa-chan, make breakfast.”

“Um, hold on,” Hajime clicked his tongue, walking to the kitchen with Tobio on his hip. “Magic words?”

Before Oikawa could respond or retort in anyway, Tobio shook his head quickly. “Nonono, only the Wizard can use magic words!” He looked at the brunet over his father’s shoulder. “He means say ‘please’ okay?”

Oikawa perked up an eyebrow, following Hajime into the kitchen as the other snorted and placed his son on the counter. Tobio smiled happily as though the entire world had just been saved by his words, and Hajime moved to the coffeemaker first.

“Oik-san doesn’t know magic,” Tobio said matter-of-factly.

“Right, right, sorry,” Hajime waved his hand, dismissing the boy. “I forgot.”

“Don’t forget again!”

“What is going on…” Oikawa muttered mostly to himself, raising a hand to scratch at the back of his head. “Who’s ‘the Wizard’… is this about one of your movies or something? Am I still asleep?” He followed up his question by shutting his eyes super tight, his nose crinkling at the top.

Hajime blinked. “What are you doing?”

Oikawa’s shoulders slunk, his face relaxing as he let out a sigh, and he opened his eyes. “I’m not asleep. I thought that if I was, I could make my dream better but—alas! I’m _still_ not a rich trophy husband.”

“You can be a couch husband!” Tobio offered.

Oikawa ignored him.

 

“How’s he doing?” Hinata-san asked, welcome Tobio inside.

“What?”

“Oikawa,” she tried.

“Oh,” Hajime shot a glance toward his apartment, then his gaze went back to the small ginger woman. “He’s doing okay, I guess. All he’s done is watch TV for the past three days, but it’s better than what he could be doing.”

“Hard to think it’s only been three days,” she hummed, leaning against the door frame with a playful smile. “Tobio-kun talks about him like he’s lived there forever.”

Hajime’s wasn’t sure why he’d started blushing, the tingle in his cheeks making the pink change evident, and hoped his neighbor wouldn’t point it out.

She did.

“Don’t be embarrassed! It’s cute when he does it. Shouyou gets jealous sometimes; after you two leave he asks me why _we_ can’t have an ‘Oik-san of our own.’ Anyway~” she giggled. “I won’t keep you any longer.”

“Right…”

They both bid each other farewells, Hajime calling a goodbye out to Tobio who was in the middle of a tug-of-war with Shouyou for a plush volleyball.

He went down to the apartment building’s lobby, waving to the desk clerk before heading out to his car. Once he was inside, heat blasting, he pulled his phone out. He scrolled through his contacts, hoping the other was awake once he’d selected the number.

_“Hello?”_

“Hey, this is Iwauzmi—”

_“I know it’s you. Your name comes up when you call. That’s how phones work…”_

“Don’t be salty with me at 8:30 in the morning.”

_“I haven’t had my coffee yet, you’re lucky I even answered the phone.”_

Hajime snorted, turning his phone on speaker and setting it in his lap before pulling out of the parking lot. “I’ll make this short and sweet then, okay?”

_“It’d be shorter and sweeter if you got on with it,”_

“Damn, you do need your coffee. Anyway, I was going to ask if you’d be able to meet with me sometime this week. There’s something I need, and you’re probably the best and only hope I have.”

_“Huh… and here I thought you just wanted to chit-chat.”_

“That too.” Hajime agreed, glaring through his windshield when he’d forgotten about the pothole _again._ “So when are you free?”

The line was quiet for a bit. _“I can come see you during my lunch break. That gives us a good hour for whatever it is you need to discuss with me.”_

“That works. Are you going to come see me at work?”

_“Yes, feed me with your employee discount. I’m going to drink my coffee now, I’ll see you later.”_

“Okay—see you.”

_“Mhm.”_

The line cut off and Hajime exhaled. It was strange, in the last three days, to not have Oikawa riding in the passenger seat with his hands balled up in his lap. But it was fine that he wasn’t. Not fine—great. Oikawa didn’t need to be in that situation anymore. And he wasn’t.

Hajime smiled to himself, pulling into the restaurant’s parking lot. He took his usual space, and upon parking he took his phone from his lap and shoved it into his coat pocket. There was a bit of time before he had to head inside, so he leaned his head back against the seat and closed his eyes.

In the last few days, Oikawa had stayed in Hajime’s apartment by himself for most hours of the day. When Hajime came home every day, he wanted to ignore the heavy feeling weighing on his shoulders thinking when he’d open the door, Oikawa would be gone. That Oikawa would have left while he was at work and Tobio was with the Hinata’s, and that there would be a ransacked living room waiting for them. Thankfully, there never was.

Even if it had only been three days.

…But he trusted Oikawa. He swore he did, he had no reason not to. He didn’t feel he did, at least. Regardless, he didn’t want the other to _think_ he didn’t trust him, because Hajime _wanted_ Oikawa to feel safe and welcome. And he had to trust him to be assured that Oikawa stayed put.

Fingers tapped at Hajime’s window, startling him, and he automatically imagined the person standing outside to be Oikawa, as it always was. It wasn’t, though. Oikawa was at home.

Hajime opened his eyes after another few knocks and a breath to convince himself that it wouldn’t be Oikawa. Hanamaki withdrew his fingers from the glass and gave a small wave to the assistant chef, then nodded in the direction of the restaurant’s back entrance. The waiter stepped back, giving Hajime room to open his car door and get out.

Shutting the car door behind him, Hajime greeted him with a quiet nod.

“Haven’t seen Hooker-chan around in a while,” Hanamaki commented offhandedly. Well, it wasn’t _really_ offhanded, but Hajime didn’t really expect him to mention it so soon. “Wonder if he’s alright.”

“Mhm,” Hajime hummed in response. He wasn’t quite sure he wanted his coworkers in on his living arrangements with Oikawa.

Or, at least not Hanamaki and Matsukawa.

“It’s weird not seeing him around.” Said Hanamaki.

“It’s only been a few days.”

“Yeah; a few days without long, pale, and handsome breathing down your neck about how he wants to—”

Hajime lifted his hand to Hanamaki’s mouth, narrowing his eyes at the waiter as he reached for the backdoor’s handle. “Stop talking. Just for a little while.” Hanamaki pouted behind Hajime’s head as the assistant chef spoke. “At least wait for Mattsun to get here before you start cracking jokes at Oikawa’s expense. And leave me out of it.”

When he drew his hand back and pushed the door open, Hanamaki followed him inside. “Our duo is better as a trio, _Iwa-chan_ ,” the waiter teased. He slipped past Hajime into the kitchen to wash his hands before the other could smack him on the head.

Hajime moved alongside Hanamaki to wash his hands as well, and glared when the taller playfully bumped his hip. After his hands were clean, Hajime made his way over to Yaku, where the smaller chef was sharpening knives.

“Good morning, Iwaizumi-san,” Yaku hummed without looking up.

“Good morning,” he answered. “Do you need any help with that?”

“Nah, I’m almost done…. Hey, can I ask you something?” Yaku questioned, sliding the knives he’d sharpened into the wooden holder. Hajime hummed in response and waited. Yaku turned his body wholly toward Hajime before he went on. “You can say no, which is totally cool, but I was wondering if you’d take my shift on Friday.”

“Why?”

Yaku glanced off to the side. “Well, um. Lev’s sister is flying in and he wants me to go with him to pick her up from the airport.”

“It’s going to take you and Lev all day to pick his sister up?”

“Yeah, considering she bought a plane ticket to Tokyo instead of Sendai. Lev told her wrong, and we don’t want to make her buy another one so we’re just going to make the trip to go get her. I’d let Lev take the trip on his own, but…” The smaller chef trailed off, looking to the side.

Hajime sighed, thinking about the fact that Lev was _Lev—_ he’d only met Yaku’s boyfriend a couple of times, but those times all made it very clear that without Yaku, Lev… well, putting it lightly, if he were a cat, he’d be out of lives.

“Can I give you my answer later?” He asked the smaller chef. “I have other stuff to think about right now—”

“Oh, there’s no rush or anything to answer!” Yaku promised, bowing his head at Hajime. “If you can tell me by Thursday that’d be cool, though. I want to give Sawamura some type of heads up if my shift isn’t gonna be filled, you know?” Hajime nodded at that and Yaku grinned, giving the taller a thumbs up. “Thanks, Iwaizumi-san!”

A bit after their exchange, Hajime shifted over to his station and let out a heavy sigh. He was looking forward to his day off on Friday to spend with Tobio—and, well, take Oikawa clothes shopping, as promised. Though, that could wait until Saturday or even Sunday if it had to.

He swallowed then, thinking about the guilt he’d feel if he’d had to ask Hinata-san to watch Tobio. She probably wouldn’t mind, she claimed she _never_ minded, but… Hajime shook his head. He had time to think about that later. For now, he needed to focus on work.

 

Few orders came in on Monday mornings, and this one was no exception. Even as the morning rolled over to noon, they weren’t that busy. It was easy days like this that Hajime liked the most, because for the most part, the staff got to laze around and joke and hang out. Even with Hanamaki and Matsukawa’s banter with Yaku, or Kawanishi ignoring them the best he could to cut up a damn carrot, or Sawamura having to give _someone_ the stare, it was nice.

Yaku pointed a finger up at Matsukawa’s smug, grinning face suddenly, bringing Hajime’s focus to them. “—yeah, and I could just as easily shove this spatula straight up your as—”

“Um,” their lovely Hostess, Shimizu, popped her head into the kitchen with an announcement, just in time to detour Yaku’s original statement.

The small chef cleared his throat, dropping his hand. “…iiiago. Asiago”

Matsukawa and Hanamaki laughed, and Sawamura popped his head out of the storeroom, shooting a look at them to quiet down. Moniwa pulled him back in, saying something about _letting the kids have their fun_. Behind Hajime, he heard Hanamaki whisper, “god bless Moniwa,” and Matsukawa repeated him before they both slid out the door, passing Shimizu.

One awkward apology given by Yaku later, the kitchen’s mild chaos had dissolved, the small chef getting back to work while Kawanishi finally finished cutting up that carrot. That left Hajime to go back to what he was doing—what had he been doing? He didn’t remember. He glanced over to Shimizu and gave her an apologetic grin (though, he hadn’t been one to participate in the chaos).

“Iwaizumi-kun,” she spoke softly, still holding his attention again. “You have a visitor—I believe you’ve warranted a break by now, anyway.”

“Visi—oh! Right, right. Yeah. Thank you, Shimizu-san.”

She nodded once before sliding back out the door, leaving the kitchen quiet. Yaku turned his head toward Hajime, an eyebrow raised. “Hot date at noon?”

“Only the hottest,” Hajime snorted. Yaku hummed as the taller chef moved passed him, giving a smack to his shoulder before walking out the kitchen door and greeting the open restaurant. It wasn’t very lively, but Monday afternoons often weren’t.

Near Shimizu’s hostess podium was said visitor, standing beside Shimizu and having what looked to be a lighthearted conversation. Hajime approached them, bowing his head to Shimizu before he spoke.

“Thanks for coming to see me on such short notice, Akaashi.”

“Mhm. Shall we sit?”

“Yes. Thanks, again, Shimizu-san.”

Hajime led Akaashi to a table near the windows, where he knew the other liked to be, and they sat across from each other. Akaashi folded his hands in front of him as he got comfortable in his chair, and after a few awkward seconds of silence, he spoke.

“So. What’s up?”

“Already wanting to get down to business?” Hajime snorted, propping his elbow up on the table. “I thought you’d want to chit-chat a little.”

“Business now, casual conversation later.” Akaashi said curtly. He kept a straight face as he spoke, but once the words were out, he cracked a smile. “How are you?”

Hajime grinned as well. “I’m good! It’s been a while.”

“It has. We were starting to think you forgot about us, Iwaizumi-san.”

The chef’s assistant left out a short sigh, leaning back against his chair. “I’ve been really busy lately.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that.” Akaashi waved him off. “I wasn’t too worried, at least. You always come around after doing the whole workaholic father bit, anyway. But, pray tell, what’s got you so busy?”

“That’s actually part of what I needed to talk to you about.”

Akaashi raised an eyebrow, trying to coax Hajime on to explain further, but a pair of waiters slid up to their table before anything more could be said.

“Hey, Akaashi,” Hanamaki greeted, placing a hand over his half-aproned hip, speaking at the same time as Matsukawa, “yo, Akaashi.”

“Hello.”

Hajime heaved out a heavy sigh. “Guys, come on. This is important.”

Lifting a tiny notebook, Matsukawa cocked his head to the left as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I’m sure. But, uh, I got a job to do, ya know?”

“I’m here for moral support.” Chirped Hanamaki.

“Moral support, yeah. What a good guy.” Matsukawa tapped his chin with his pen once, twice, three times. “I’m gonna take a guess on your order.”

“It’s the same every time.” Akaashi blinked dully, sending a bored glance Hajime’s way. He never was one for Hanamaki and Matsukawa’s games. And, right now, neither was Hajime.

“It’s the same every time,” Matsukawa said after him, leaning against Hanamaki. “Onigiri?”

“Yes.”

“And to drink?”

Hajime blinked. They were dragging this out on purpose.

“Mh… Genmaicha”

Hanamaki breathed out a faux gasped. “Damn, Akaashi. Back at it again with the green tea.”

The younger man focused his attention back on the waiter duo, speaking firmly. “Do not.”

“Brutal as he is beautiful,” whispered Hanamaki.

“Why don’t _you_ talk to me like that?” Matsukawa fake-whined, craning his neck to softly headbutt the side of Hanamaki’s face. They remained quiet for a moment before Matsukawa stood up straight again, and both men turned on their heels back toward the kitchen to place Akaashi’s order.

“They are always so that way…”

“I’m sorry about them. I’m always sorry about them.” Hajime sighed, lifting a hand and running it back through his hair. “We should have a warning label on those two.”

“Ah, don’t apologize. I’m used to it, Iwaizumi-san.” Akaashi leaned back in his chair, hands still laced together in front of him. “So. Now that Pain-In-The-Asses number’s two and three are gone, what is it you wanted to talk about?”

Maybe he should have figured out how to word what he wanted to say about Oikawa, how to talk him up to Akaashi and start up a good impression. And, then, shit. He realized he didn’t know anything about the guy really, other than that they were the same age, his name… his _last_ name, and his last profession. Well. Calling it a profession was a little too generous. Even if, jokingly, Oikawa did once claim to be “the best in the business, Iwa-chan~!”

“I have this frien…um. Well. I know this guy, rather. He uh. He’s… not so… hm.”

“Thrilling conversationalist you are, Iwaizumi-san. You have me hanging on every word.”

“Please… Akaashi… the sass…”

“You realize one day Tobio will be a teenager, and he is going to give you the same amount of lip if not more than I am. How are you going to live?” Akaashi quirked up a brow and lifted a hand casually to his mouth, presumably to hide the amused smile pulling at his lips.

“I know. It’s a time I fear. He’ll probably be taller than me too—shit, okay. Akaashi, okay, this is really important. I’m getting off topic.”

“My bad.”

Hajime took in a breath. “It’s fine. Okay. So, I have this acquaintance… He’s looking for a new job, and it’d be _really_ good for him to be able to work in a quiet, peaceful environment. With… ya know, good role models. Like you. Somewhere he can have quiet time and relax and still get to socialize, but like… in a healthy way. You know?”

“Um… may I ask where this acquaintance has worked before?”

There was a stiffness in the air. Akaashi’s expression was neutral, unwavering, and that made it hard for Hajime to read him, to figure out what he was thinking. He bit the inside of his cheek, glancing down at the table in attempt to compose his thoughts, how to word this without making Oikawa seem… bad.

But Akaashi spoke first. “You’re making it out to be like he’s not experienced with people, or that he isn’t good with them. And moreover, the fact that this acquaintance needs a ‘good role model’ worries me.” He admitted with a small frown. “Generally, sure, the library would be a good place for someone who likes quiet and mostly busy work, but…”

“He’s had some bad experiences… he, uh…” Hajime lowered his voice. “He’s… _kind_ of a prostitute.”

Akaashi blinked, expression slowly becoming less neutral and a bit more questioning. “…What do you mean by ‘kind of’, Iwaizumi-san…?”

“I mean like… He. He isn’t one anymore. He stopped.”

“He… _stopped._ Being a prostitute. Just like that? Sheer will power?”

“Yeah.”

“Iwaizumi-san…” Akaashi leaned forward, chin now resting in his palm. “I don’t believe that it’s that easy. I’m sure this acquaintance is… trying. But, I don’t think—”

Hajime shook his head, and Akaashi dropped his words to let the other speak. “He’s been staying with me. I’d know if he went out to fuck around.”

“Uh-huh… is he still staying with you?”

“Yeah.”

“And is he at your place right now?”

“Yes.”

“I see… how do you know?”

The chef’s assistant tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

“How do you know that he’s there, while you’re not? I’m positive you didn’t leave him with the responsibility of watching Tobio, so there’s nothing holding him there... He could be gone right now.”

“No…”

“He could, and that’s something you haven’t considered.” Akaashi sighed. “I know you want to see the best in this man, but… hasn’t that bitten you in the ass before?”

Iwaizumi frowned, brows furrowing. “Akaashi.”

“I’m not trying to be harsh or rude, though I’m probably coming off that way. However, you don’t know, Iwaizumi-san. You _don’t_ know—”

“ _You_ don’t know.” Hajime practically growled, jetting a finger toward the other. It got a reaction, Akaashi staring slightly doe-eyed at him. “He’s a good guy, he’s just had it really shitty. Listen. I’m asking you because you’re my best friend, and not that you owe me any favors, but I was hoping you’d help me out because I _know_ that _you_ know what it’s like to have someone that you so desperately want to help because it fucking _kills_ you to see them suffering.”

Akaashi broke eye-contact, _finally_ , looking down at his hands. They’d gone from calmly laced together to his right hand prodding and fidgeting with the fingers of his left—something he did when he felt at a loss. Which was rare.

“I can’t just… hire this guy right on the spot. Without an application, or so much as a one on one interview, the most I can get him is volunteer time. Which… has very little payoff, in my opinion.” The younger man gave after a few quiet beats. “Let me meet him, at least. I’ll see what I can do after that.”

“Thank you… I’m sorry I snapped.”

Akaashi shrugged dismissively. “Don’t be. It wasn’t really my place to say anything like that about someone I know nothing about. I’m sure he’s very nice.”

“He’s… something.”

The younger man bit back a knowing smile, opening his mouth to say something more when, out of almost nowhere, Matsukawa slipped back over to the table with a plate of onigiri and two cups of green tea.

“Took you long enough,” Remarked Hajime as Akaashi reached for a riceball.

“I’d say sorry, but I actually forgot about the order, and Makki was distracting me.”

Akaashi glanced up before taking a bite. “How are you two not jobless…”

Glancing over his shoulder torwards the kitchen, Matsukawa let out a dreamy sigh and pressed his palms together to pray as he looked back toward the pair at the table. “God bless Moniwa, honestly.”


	5. motherly instincts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tobio is an artist and Hajime has no idea what the fuck is going on anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hinata's mom has become such an important character in this and she doesn't even have a name.
> 
> ..............ANYWAY. HI. IT'S BEEN A WHILE.... i don't even have an excuse honestly I just didn't feel like writing. But it's been a year since i started this fic so (: happy one year anniversary, here's a chapter to celebrate! i swear the next update won't take nearly as long (prayer hands emoji)

Listening to Oikawa’s shitty pop music station on the way home from work was starting to become routine for Hajime, but it was a little off-putting that he kept the station playing even when Oikawa wasn’t in the car with him. He bobbed his head to the beat of one particularly bouncy song, a song he’d heard the last time Oikawa was in the car, and he even remembered some of the words—he didn’t dare sing along though.

He pulled into the parking lot of his apartment, bracing himself for the cold waiting for him outside by holding his hands out to the vent spewing out hot air. It was above thirty outside according to his phone, but Hajime didn’t believe that. It was a blatant lie by Apple.

With a sigh, he turned the car off and got out. The chill hit him like a sack of ice and despite having braced himself for it, he was definitely not ready. Hajime lifted the neck of his coat up, hoping the warmth would reach his ears, and he hurried inside of the building. Thankfully, the lobby was substantially warmer; Hajime let out a breath of relief.

Hajime felt a little impatient as he rode up the elevator by himself. Actually, no, impatient was the wrong word. Anxious was better. He was thinking about to what Akaashi had said during their lunch together. _How do you know that he’s there, while you’re not?_ It was something he’d obviously never considered. And it really was a possibility, but after all he’d already done for the brunet, he didn’t want to lose faith because of a mere possibility.

…Akaashi had a point though. There was the big _what if_ of it all. A knot had begun to form itself in Hajime’s throat, and when the elevator stopped, the knot plunged downward into his stomach. He thought about their conversation more, and Akaashi had mentioned something else that had really hit him. He was too trusting, too willing to help someone out, and too willing to let someone in. Too willing and too unsuspecting to things he didn’t think could, might, and _would_ happen if he wasn’t careful.

On top of that, he had Tobio to think about in the situation too, and now Hajime was all kinds of anxious as he walked down the hall, passing his own door to get to Hinata-san’s. He didn’t knock right away. Rather, Hajime just stood there staring at the door in deep thought. Disgusted—he was disgusted he hadn’t thought this through entirely. Maybe disgusted was too harsh of a word, but “anxious” was already covering the heavy feeling settling all over him at the prospect of Akaashi’s suspicion being fact.

Oikawa could easily hurt Tobio if he wanted to. Tobio was gullible and naïve and trusting—much like his father—and if Oikawa desired to bring him into harm’s way, he could do it without trouble. Oikawa… was a lot to think about. He didn’t like children, Hajime knew.

He shook his head, knuckles hesitant before knocking at Hinata-san’s door. Oikawa was fine. He could be trusted. He hadn’t done anything to prove otherwise…

“You look nauseous,” Hinata-san chirped, bring Hajime from his thoughts. Did he?

“Do I?”

She tilted her head to the side and looked up at Hajime, concerned. “Mhm… everything alright? You’re not sick, are you?”

“No, no, nothing like that…” Hajime sighed, slumping his shoulders. “Just, a lot of weird thoughts right now.”

“Ah,” She clicked her tongue, knowingly. “Bad weird?”

Hajime frowned. “Kinda…”

Hinata-san gave a gentle, reassuring pat to Hajime’s arm. “You can always talk to me, you know. Tell me, it’s about Oikawa, right?” Hajime nodded. “Second thoughts?”

“Akaashi met with me for lunch today,” Hajime explained. “And he said something that I hadn’t considered before, and it’s making me really uncomfortable to think about.” Hinata-san raised an eyebrow, silently egging him on, and he shifted his weight onto his other foot. Hajime lowered his voice before speaking again. “He said that while I’m at work and Tobio is here, that Oikawa could be sneaking out of the building to… you know. _Fuck around_. And, I want to help him change and better himself and not have to do that just to make enough money to feed himself, but if he’s going to… to do _that_ behind my back, then…!”

His neighbor listened carefully, and when he finished, she placed her hands on her hips. She looked so motherly and authoritive in that pose that Hajime shrunk back a bit, picturing his own mother. “Do you trust him?”

“Akaashi said—”

“I asked if _you_ trusted him, not Akaashi-kun.” And there was that motherly tone. She was only a few years older than Hajime, and yet he was feeling like a child while talking to his own mother in this moment.

Hajime bit the inside of his cheek, thinking. He wanted to, he _really_ wanted to, but Akaashi planting these second thoughts in his head were making it hard to.

“I want to.” He answered.

“Iwaizumi-san,” she began. “How many keys do you have for your apartment?”

“One…?”

“Right. So, riddle me this, how is Oikawa to sneak out of here and them come back every day without a key if the doors in this building lock automatically?”

“…Oh.”

“Yeah. _Oh._ And, not to mention, Shimada-san most likely won’t give him a spare key to your apartment if he went down and asked since he’s only a temporary guest in your home. So,” Hinata-san cleared her throat. “That being said. Do you really want to trust Oikawa?”

She was right. She was beyond right; Shimada was lax but he wouldn’t give Oikawa a key unless Hajime asked for it himself… and the doors in the building locked manually when they were shut… so Hajime nodded again. “Yes.”

“Then put those bad thoughts about him out of your head and _trust_ him.” Hinata-san then dropped her hands from her hips and smiled that friendly, neighborly smile, and turned on her heel. “The boys are watching a movie in Shouyou’s room, I’ll go tell Tobio you’re here~”

Hajime watched her disappear into her own apartment, dwelling over her words. She was right. Of course she was, she always was. About everything, even the little things that he’d come to her with in the last two years they’d lived next to each other.

Tobio came running down the hall, arms outstretched, and sprang into Hajime’s arms. “Daddy!”

“Tobio!” Hajime hummed as his son wrapped his arms around his neck in a tight hug. “How was your day, kiddo?”

“Shouyou and me watched _Ponyo_!”

“Oh?”

Hinata-san approached the door again, Shouyou at her side with a juice box in his hands. “He was very good today, but he didn’t eat all of his lunch, so he’ll probably be really messy during dinner,” she hummed, the intensity of their precious conversation far behind her. She looked down at her son. “Shouyou, say bye-bye to Tobio?”

“Bye-bye to Tobio,” Shouyou parroted, bring the straw of his juice box up to his lips. “You coming back tomorrow?”

“Uh-huh.” Tobio answered, looking at his father for confirmation instead of at Shouyou to answer him.

“Yeah, he’ll see you tomorrow, Shouyou.” Hajime said. He looked back at Hinata-san. “Thank you.”

“Of course—”

“No, I mean. Thank you.”

She smiled at him. “Of course.”

Hajime toted Tobio to the next door over and tightened his hold on his son as he knocked with his free hand and waited for Oikawa to open the door for them.

And waited.

And waited a little longer.

His jaw tightened, worry spreading through him again, and he fished his key out of his coat pocket to unlock and open the door himself. Thoughts of Oikawa Is Gone were starting to fill his mind again, whatever Tobio was saying to him getting blocked out by the uneasiness he was settling into—

Tobio’s small hand came into contact with Hajime’s mouth with a soft slapping noise followed by the boy shushing him loudly.

“Daddy, _shhh,_ ” Tobio warned him, pointing toward the couch with his other hand. “Oik-san’s sleeping.”

Hajime’s eyes fell to the couch where Oikawa was curled up, left arm hanging off of the couch with his face buried into the cushion. He was out cold. Hajime swallowed, internally reprimanding himself for actually letting his doubts get the better of him. Of _course_ Oikawa was still there. Of course.

Setting Tobio down, Hajime turned to hang his coat up and ran a hand over his face. Honestly, he was angrier at himself for getting sucked into Akaashi’s assumptions than he was relieved about Oikawa still being there.

Tobio, not following his own advice to stay quiet because of their sleeping guest, hopped onto the couch, startling Oikawa awake. The brunet blinked a few times, adjusting to the waking world, and stared at the child that had awoken him.

“Not… not cool.” He grumbled with no composure regained through his tired voice. He looked over at Hajime, who had frozen by the coatrack after getting lost in thought. Oikawa cleared his throat to get the chef’s attention. “Welcome home…? You don’t look happy to see me, Iwa-chan.”

“…Actually.” Hajime breathed before stepping over and slumping onto the couch on the other side of Tobio. He closed his eyes before speaking. “No I’m. I’m really happy to see you. I’m glad you’re here.”

Oikawa raised an eyebrow. “That’s kind of—” He stopped before finishing the sentence, pressing his lips together in a pause. “…Thanks.”

After a moment, Iwaizumi turned to look at his son. “Tobio, can you go draw me a really pretty picture?” Tobio’s eyes sparkled at the request. “I want it to be the best drawing ever, so I can brag about it at work. Can you do that for me?”

“Yeah!” Tobio bounced. Oikawa gave Iwaizumi a skeptical look, then averted his gaze by lifting his hands to rub the leftover sleep from his eyes while Tobio clapped his tiny hands together. “Can I use all my crayons?”

“You sure can. I want you to take your time, got it? Make me a masterpiece.”

Tobio hopped off the couch, excitement coursing through his tiny body as he ran off into his bedroom. The door slammed shut, and Oikawa watched as Hajime counted to three on his fingers. When nothing happened, the chef leaned back against the couch.

“That’s so much easier than saying ‘Tobio, go to your room so I can talk to Oikawa.’” Hajime sighed.

“Oh no… am I in trouble?” Oikawa didn’t sound too concerned, but his body visibly tensed.

Hajime shook his head. “No, no. Nothing like that. I just… got a little anxious today.” He began. Oikawa narrowed his eyes, focusing on Hajime’s words. “But that’s nothing for you to worry about.”

“That sounds like what you’d say if I had something to worry about.” Oikawa chided, clicking his tongue.

“ _Any_ way,” Hajime went on. “I met with a friend today—a really close friend, who’s going to get you a job.” The brunet brightened, his shoulders untensing a bit. “Of course, he wants to meet you to make sure you’re…”

Hajime trailed off, causing Oikawa to purse his lips. “Oh, what, to make sure I’m fit to do whatever it is he’s got planned for me?”

“Well, I mean, yeah. But, he wants to make sure you’re not… I guess, he wants to make sure you’re not going to flake on him. He wants to see for himself that you really want the job.”

“Iwa-chan, I _do_ want the job! …What is it? You never told me.” Suddenly, Oikawa’s expression was overtaken by a look of pure terror. “It’s not daycare bullshit, is it? I… I can’t.”

“He’s a librarian, so your days are going to be pretty quiet… he used to read to the kids, but someone else took over the kid’s area so you won’t have to worry about that.”

“Again… sounds like something you’d say if I had to worry.” Oikawa was smiling when he said it, so Hajime snorted. “I’ll start soon then, right? If the talk went over well and he wants to meet me, then…!”

Hajime nodded once. “So long as the meeting with him goes well, yeah. He’s kind of hard to get along with at first, so don’t get offended if he acts like he doesn’t like you, alright?”

“Oh, _please,_ Iwa-chan. What’s not to like about me?”

“I… honestly can’t tell if you’re joking or not.”

“Rude.” Oikawa pouted. “I’m not that unlikable! I’m quirky is all.”

“Yeah. _Quirky_.”

Oikawa was still pouting, but his lip twitched and said pout subsided into a grin. “so~ when do I get to meet with this friend of yours?”

Oh… Hajime hadn’t really thought of that. Akaashi worked weekdays, and sometimes on the weekends if called in, so there was no way to really say when he and Oikawa could meet. He probably should have figured that out when he was with Akaashi earlier. Good going, Hajime. He scratched the back of his head, finding Oikawa’s gaze easily before smiling sheepishly at the other. “I… dunno.”

There was a ting of disappointment in Oikawa’s, but not enough to faze him. “Figure that out and let me know, okie dok?”

“O…kie… okie what?”

“Okie dok. Like _okie dokie,_ but. Less.”

“So then, you’re ten.”

“S’cuse me. It’s called optimism,” Oikawa teased. He didn’t leave a very long pause for Hajime to retort. “What’s your friend like? The one I’m gonna be working with? How’d you meet him?”

“Maybe…” Hajime corrected. “Maybe working with.”

Oikawa narrowed his eyes, gesturing vaguely with his hand in attempt to silently urge Hajime on. He wanted the information. Needed it.

“He’s…” Hajime dropped off immediately. He wasn’t entirely sure how to explain Akaashi… “Very… uhh…”

“Cool, very uhh. I’ve met a lot of ‘uhhh’ guys in my line of work. Easy to impress—”

Hajime waved his hand cutting Oikawa off and getting a snide smile in response. “He’s difficult. I met him at the library two—three? Years ago?” He questioned himself, dropping his gaze from Oikawa in favor of the couch cushion between them and stared at it for a long, long time. Oikawa didn’t say anything, just watching Hajime with focused brown eyes through long eyelashes. Hajime found his words again after a moment, looking back up. “Sorry.”

“Nah, nah. You had that dumb dadly look on your face, I didn’t wanna ruin your happy memories of Diaper Tobio.”

Hajime raised an eyebrow. “Diaper Tobio?”

“He’s like four, right? Three years ago he’d be wearing diapers… I think. That’s how babies work, right?”

“He’s five.”

“Anyway.”

“Right, anyway,” Hajime exhaled. “Like I said before, he used to read to the children before someone else took the position… I’d taken Tobio and Shouyou to the library so that Hinata-san could get a break… this was when she was still pregnant with her daughter—”

Oikawa was listening, sure, but he didn’t look the slightest bit interested in the family tree of Hajime’s next-door neighbor. His eyes were lidded, still groggy from his ruined nap no doubt, but he just looked bored of the story already.

“Sorry, so, to make a long story short, Tobio met Akaashi before I did; he’d strayed from the story group while I was in the bathroom and when I’d come back, Akaashi was talking to him.”

“Creepy.” Oikawa warbled, wiggling his fingers.

Hajime shook his head. “No, no… I mean, at first maybe, but… when I came back, Akaashi was crouched down and talking to Tobio at his level in a really low voice… I still don’t know what they were talking about but I think it had something to do with Akaashi’s magic tricks.”

“His… what?”

“Yeah, that’s why Tobio calls him the Wizard… have you heard him say that?”

“Once, I think…” Oikawa trailed off, waiting for Hajime to clarify.

“Akaashi was making coins appear from behind Tobio’s ear,” Hajime explained. “I’d asked what he was doing, and then Tobio showed me the change in his hands and then introduced me to his friend—“ wiggling his fingers for effect, “—the Wizard… and Akaashi and I have been friends ever since.”

“So… you became friends with someone you thought was a child predator for two seconds until your son showed you his magic chump change?”

“Don’t say it like that.” Hajime warned, though there was no bite to his voice. “Akaashi’s a good person, he’s just tough to get to know. Sometimes he can be really rude … and kind of snappy if you catch him in the wrong mood.”

That didn’t seem to bother Oikawa. “I’ve dealt with worse.”

“Don’t flirt with him,”

That _did_ seem to bother Oikawa. “I! Would never! What kind of person do you think I—” he paused, looking away from the face Hajime made. “Okay honestly that’s fair. What should I avoid doing?”

“Honestly?” Oikawa nodded. “Talking at all.”

“Hey!”

A laugh bubbled out of Hajime before he went on. “Sorry not sorry…”

“I’m being serious…”

“I know, I know… just think about what you say before you say it.”

“Right because I’m so good at that.” Oikawa huffed.

“You said it, not me.” Hajime muttered. Oikawa reached over, smacking the side of Hajime’s arm with the back of his hand before flopping back against the couch. “I’ll see when I can get him over here though. The sooner the better, yeah?”

Oikawa didn’t have a chance to respond before Tobio was racing back into the room, a thick piece of yellow construction paper fluttering in his hands.

“It’s done!” He shouted, jumping onto the couch and settling between them. He stretched his legs out in front of him, little shins and feet dangling off the front with the construction paper face down on his lap. The bottom right corner was adorned with a capital T in red Crayola marker to show that it was definitely Tobio’s and nobody else’s. “My ultimate masterpiece…”

“Can we see it?” Hajime asked, raising his arm only to drop it against the top of the couch.

“It’s for Oik-san,” Tobio explained. Hajime looked over at Oikawa while Tobio’s fingers wiggled the top of the paper, bending it but not quite folding it over in anticipation of showing it. Then he looked up at the brunet, eyes big and blue and excited. “Do you wanna see?”

There was absolutely, literally no earthly way that Oikawa could say no. “Sure, Tobio-chan.”

Beaming, Tobio tore the paper off of his lap and flipped it over, then adjusted it so that it was completely and perfectly centered in his lap. It was a bunch of shapes, honestly, Oikawa couldn’t make it out, but Tobio’s small fingers started to point at the shapes.

“This is my daddy!” he began, small finger hovering over a circle with green dots for eyes and a frown, attached to a blue, crudely colored in rectangle. The top of the head had black triangles… was that supposed to be Hajime’s hair? He had lines for arms too, also colored over in the same blue of the rectangle, with something shaped vaguely like a diamond coming out of his blog hand. “He has a sword and he’s going to fight the dragon.”

Oikawa blinked. “The dragon?” Oh, that had to be the dark blue outlined mass of what the hell ever, colored in with greens and greys and other blues in a zig-zagged manor. Red and orange lines spewed out from what could only be the head of this dragon, except the head was scribbled over with black crayon. “It’s… nice.”

“It’s for you!”

“I’m not even in it…” Oikawa murmured, reluctantly taking the drawing when Tobio lifted it from his lap and handed it to him.

“Tobio, what are all those circles around the dragon?” Hajime nudged him, reaching over his son to point at said circles. They were all mostly black, with pairs of red dots near the top. “Eggs?”

Tobio shook his head. “No!” They’re the other monsters.”

“Monsters?” Hajime asked, and Oikawa raised an eyebrow, peering down at the drawing again.

“Yeah! It’s because you’re gonna protect Oik-san from all the bad monsters, right?”

Hajime felt his heart drop, looking up from the crayon scribbles to catch Oikawa’s eye. He kept eye contact with him as he spoke. “What monsters, Tobio?”

“All the monsters.” Tobio told them. “The monsters and the dragon. It’s for Oik-san so that he knows you’re always gonna fight away the monsters!”

It didn’t take long for Oikawa to break away, eyes back on the drawing in his hands. “…I love it, Tobio-chan.”

Tobio continued to beam. “Yay! I’ll draw you and daddy together next time, okay? No wait I’ll draw all of us!” He promised, no, _swore_ , before sliding off of the couch. “Keep it forever okay?”

“I will.”

“Promise,” Tobio warned, reaching out with a small fist and extending his pinky. Oikawa stared at it. “Pinky promises are super serious.”

Shoulders slumping, Oikawa extended his own hand and hooked his pinky around Tobio’s much smaller one. “Okay. I promise.”

With that, Tobio was gone, zooming back to his room presumably for more art. Hajime and Oikawa were quiet, both looking down at the image displayed on the yellow construction paper. Of _course_ that shape-person was Hajime. Of course the black and grey and blue and green blog was a dragon. Of course those eggs weren’t actually eggs, but monsters. Tobio knew too much for someone who literally didn’t know anything at all.

“I’m…” Hajime moved to his feet, hoping Oikawa would follow him with his eyes, but he just kept staring at the picture. “Going to start on dinner… want anything special?” He got a headshake in response, swallowed down his sigh, and went on to the kitchen.

On his way to the kitchen, he heard a soft _what the fuck_ from Oikawa.

 

Hajime had completely forgotten. What he’d he forgotten? Fuck if he knew, he _forgot._ But Yaku kept looking over at him during morning prep, those intrusive brown eyes digging at him, asking him something, and god Hajime could not figure out why.

He could just ask, couldn’t he? No, because that would be rude, considering he knew whatever it was he’d forgotten was important. Probably. Or Yaku just had some beef with him… which didn’t make sense. They got along very well—better than Hajime got along with Matsukawa and Hanamaki half the time (which wasn’t hard, really…)—so what the hell could it be—

“So, Iwaizumi-san, about tomorrow—”

_Fuck, that’s right, Lev’s sister—_

“I can take your shift,” Hajime sputtered out without letting Yaku finish. The smaller chef blinked up at him. “I mean, for tomorrow. So that Lev’s sister doesn’t die in Tokyo.”

Yaku smiled. “I honestly thought you’d forgot.”

 _Yes that’s literally exactly what happened, fuck, Yaku, I’m so sorry…_ “Nah, I just didn’t know when to bring it up.”

“Thanks, it really means a lot. If we get the chance, maybe I can introduce you to Alisa,” Yaku hummed, turning back to his station. “She loves kids, man.”

“…Great,”

Yaku paused. “Not… not that I’m trying to set you up. Tob’s got it good. Sorry, I didn’t—”

“No, no, it’s fine, I knew what you meant,” Hajime waved him off, fiddling with the knob on the stove in front of him. “I’d be glad to meet her.” _I’m not interested in dating your boyfriend’s sister or finding a replacement mother for my child, why are you guys always trying to set me up, I’m perfectly happy and capable of being a single father, oh my god—_ “also your pan’s burning.”

“Wh—FUCK,”

 

As the day went on after that, Hajime felt a panic fall over him... So he’s taking Yaku’s Friday shift. That’s an all day shift. Friday was his day off. He felt guilty. He’d promised Oikawa that he’d take him shopping for clothes, and he was honestly really looking forward to spending the day with Oikawa and Tobio. It would have been fun.

But now thanks to his inability to say no, he had to push that back, and would probably end up having to push back when Akaashi and Oikawa could have their one-on-one time, and—

Hajime had an idea. A terrible idea that he probably shouldn’t even attempt to bring into reality, but sooner _was_ better, and this was going to be his only shot.

**Iwaizumi Hajime [13:52PM]: Hey will you do me a super huge big favor because youre my best friend and you love me?**

**Akaashi Keiji [13:56PM]: Huge and big are synonyms, don’t use them to describe the same thing.**

**Akaashi Keiji [13:57PM]: Also, what is it?**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A NEW CHALLENGER APPROACHES: AKAASHI, KEIJI  
> STATS:  
> \--STAMINA: 8/10  
> \--GAME SENSE: 8/10  
> \--BABYSITTING: 9/10  
> \--ABILITY TO PUT UP WITH OIKAWA: ????
> 
> FIND OUT.......soon


	6. intimidation factor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No man could be that pretty and not have some dark shit locked up. Tooru would know.
> 
> (Praise be, the long awaited Oikawa-centric chapter!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter took 2 months to be produced and 2 weeks to be written i hope it was worth it and i am so sorry as always for the wait.

There are very few things at this point in his life that can intimidate Tooru into silence. Usually, those things were money related. But in this moment, nothing could come close to the overwhelming and prickling sense of intimidation he felt when sitting across from the man Tobio had deemed “The Wizard” at Iwa-chan’s kitchen table. Tooru sat, lips pressed together in a tight line, hands in his lap. The Wizard—Akaashi, Tooru remembered—had an unreadable expression, eyes narrowed searching Tooru’s own while his own fingers remain still and laced on the table in front of him.

Tobio sat between them, trying to tell the plot of his latest dream around a mouthful of eggs while Iwa-chan fumbled with a trio of coffee cups. The noise on either side of him did not help Tooru to feel any better about the way those eyes bore into him, judging, accusing, yet unreadable.

“I appreciate this a lot, Akaashi,” Iwa-chan said, maybe for the second or third time, Tooru wasn’t really sure. He set one of the mugs down in front of Akaashi, then sat in the empty seat across from Tobio before placing his own mug and Tooru’s on the table. “Thank you, really.”

Akaashi gave him the tiniest glint of a smile before unlacing his hands and taking the handle of his mug with thin fingers. “It’s no trouble, stop fussing over it. I’m happy to…” there was a pause—a small one, but _still_ a pause, and Tooru ingrained it into his mind, looking down into his mug when Akaashi glanced toward him, then back to Iwa-chan. “…watch Tobio for you.”

Between them, Tobio wiggled in his seat, stopping in the middle of whatever story he was telling to contribute to the conversation at hand. “We’re going to the store! Right?”

“The mall,” Iwa-chan corrected, eyes darting to Akaashi as if to ask if that were okay.

Right… plans had changed. Tooru sat back in his seat, tracing around the rim of his mug with lidded eyes. Iwa-chan _was_ going to take him shopping for some suitable work clothes and clothes in general, and a phone, too, and whatever else he might need. But, out of the blue, he’d decided his best friend, best of all best friends’ and Tobio’s not-uncle would be in charge while Iwa-chan covered someone’s shift at the restaurant.

It wasn’t terrible and unfair as it would have been if their shopping trip was canceled all together, but Tooru was let down. He wanted to spend this time with Iwa-chan. Now their trip would have a serious, outstanding lack of Iwa-chan, and a gain of Tooru being uncomfortable because he wouldn’t be the prettiest person in the room.

Thanks a lot Akaashi—what the fuck even _are_ you?

Tooru pouted his bottom lip out while Iwa-chan and Akaashi spoke back and forth. He should probably be listening… and yet, he just sat there, going from vaguely threatened to observant. Akaashi’s hair wasn’t wavy like his own. His curls were dark and loose and framed his face perfectly. His eyes were piercing, but at the same time gentle and absolutely, one-hundred percent full of condescension every time he looked Tooru’s way. Even his nose was cute.

Again. What. The fuck. Are you.

Probably a closet nympho. Or an incubus. No man could be that pretty and not have some dark shit locked up. Tooru would know—

“—llo? Earth to Oikawa?”

Tooru blinked, sitting up a little straighter. “Sorry. What? Hi.”

Iwa-chan snickered to himself at the reaction (while Akaashi, on the other hand, did nothing). “Welcome back. Have a good time in Oikawa Land?”

“…Oh, yeah, definitely. Always a good time in Oikawa Land…”

“Oikawa-san,” Akaashi chimed in, grabbing his attention. Tooru looked at him, brows raising and eyes widening slightly. This was the first time Akaashi had spoken to him since they’d been introduced. “Iwaizumi-san gave me the details of your… um… prior situation, but I still need to ask how good you are with people? In general.”

“Well, with men, I—”

“With people.” Akaashi cut him off, sitting up straighter, replacing his fingers in front of him. Tooru shrunk back a bit, feeling intimidated again. “As a whole. Not individuals. I know you’ve dealt with plenty of one on one time with people, but as for groups?”

Tooru’s lips twitched, threatening to speak out of turn and resulting in the one strike with Tobio around, but he swallowed it down. “It depends on the size of the group. You’re… like, a librarian, right? So you got, like, kids and moms, and teenagers and stoners coming in, and that’s about it, right?”

Iwa-chan shifted, looking a little uncomfortable. Tobio wasn’t paying attention anymore, he was playing with his twisty straw.

“Basically.” Akaashi finally replied. “Now answer my question.”

“Your question’s really loaded,” Tooru quipped, grinning. Akaashi seemed offput by his smile. “I dunno whether you’re asking me how I deal with them being _near_ or how I deal with interacting.”

“Both.”

“Talk is cheap, but I’m good at it.” Said Tooru. “I make a living telling people what they want to hear.”

“ _Made_ ,” Iwa-chan corrected, trying to ignore the way his cheeks started flushing an awkward red. He stood up then, taking a sip of his otherwise untouched coffee, and then quickly stepped around the table to snatch Tobio up out of his chair. “I’m going to get Tobio ready, and then I have to head out,” His attention was on Akaashi and Akaashi’s was on him, and Tooru pouted while they spoke. Iwa-chan said something about leaving money and a list of things he needed Akaashi to get for him, yada yada, then scurried off with Tobio in his arms down the hall to his bedroom.

Tooru watched the way Akaashi’s eyes followed Iwaizumi, gaze stuck in that direction until the door clicked shut, and then watched the way Akaashi’s focus returned to Tooru in a heavy, crushing stare.

“I’m going to make something very clear to you.” He said lowly, but so suddenly that Tooru wasn’t quite sure Akaashi was addressing him at first. “Hajime is my _best_ friend. And he’s helping you out of the kindness of his heart. He asked me to do this for him, and that’s the only reason I’m even talking to you. If it weren’t for him, you would still be out there selling that cheap talk and cheap ass you seem to be so proud of.”

“The ass isn’t chea—”

“For _whatever_ reason, he cares about you. Some guardian angel type of complex he thinks he has to have because of his bullshit ex. I don’t know, and frankly I don’t care, so long as he’s happy.” Akaashi glared at him from across the table, and Tooru lost any sort of banter he had planned in return. “But if you do anything to jeopardize the happiness he’s worked so hard for, I will _personally_ deal with you myself.”

Tooru nodded quickly, leaning as far back into his chair as he could. “Okay—”

“And don’t think I don’t know what you’re playing at. He told me what happened the first night you stayed here. Your little show in the kitchen?”

Tooru’s cheeks started to burn. “That was a mistake.”

“Yeah. Don’t make more like it.”

Through the walls, Tooru could hear the faintest of giggling from Tobio. They were having a good time… Iwa-chan was a good man. Of course he was; Tooru knew that. Akaashi knew it _more_.

“He’s doesn’t need any more short-term people coming into his life.” Akaashi noted, voice losing its harsh edge. Tooru unballed his fists, not quite remembering when he’d made them. “He might look it, but he’s not strong enough for that. So just…”

Akaashi trailed off, looking frustrated as he searched for the words, but sat up when Tobio’s door clicked open and tiny footsteps sprinted out of the room, bigger ones following it. Tobio appeared from behind the wall, running from Iwa-chan with only one shoe on, and used Akaashi where he sat as a shield from his father. Iwa-chan stood in the opening when Tooru looked back over, expression exasperated yet fond, and in his left hand was Tobio’s other shoe.

“Tobio, buddy, c’mere you have to get ready to go shopping with Akaashi and Oikawa.”

“Shoes are for babies,” Tobio said back, tiny hands curling into the sleeves of Akaashi’s jacket, ducking down to completely hide from his father. “Pssst… Keiji, put up in-sa-ble magic so he can’t see us!”

Akaashi knew Tobio better than Tooru did, of course, but that didn’t stop Tooru from sounding the word out, trying to figure out what it was. He felt stupid— _invisible—_ saying it quietly from his seat as Akaashi pulled his jacket open and hid Tobio’s head against his hip.

“He’s gone,” Akaashi gasped, looking over at Iwa-chan. “I don’t know where he went.”

So Akaashi had a playful side… duh. He wasn’t called The Wizard for bullshit, Tooru. Folding his arms, Iwa-chan tapped the edge of Tobio’s shoe against his bicep as he stepped out of the hallway frame. “He’s gooone? Jeez… Come out, Tobs! I’m gonna be late for work…”

“He’s disappeared,”

“Where on earth could he be…”

Tooru narrowed his eyes, standing and snatching the shoe from Iwa-chan’s hand. “Are you two crazy?”

“We’re playi—”

Tooru snaked around the other side of the table, away from the chef. “He’s obviously over here, didn’t you see him come this…way...” Tooru crouched down beside Tobio, who’s sight was still hidden from view by Akaashi’s jacket. He looked to both sides, even ducked his head beneath the table before speaking. “My god, he really is gone…”

Tooru could feel Iwa-chan smiling at him.

“Tobioooo-chan…” Tooru fake-cried. “I knew him well… we never even got to finish _Kiki’s_ …”

Then, suddenly, Tobio was back! He shoved Akaashi’s jacket out of the way, throwing his hands up over his head and shouting _boo!_ surprising all of the adults. “I’m not gone! I’m back, I was only invis’ble!” Tobio smacked his tiny baby hands to Tooru’s cheeks, holding him tight as he spoke with absolute certainty. “Don’t cry, Oika-san!”

Tooru didn’t like when Tobio touched him for a plethora of reasons. The main reason being that he was dirty no matter how long he’d been clean both figuratively and literally, and Tobio was pure. Tooru had things running over his skin so gruesome and disgusting and vulgar that the feeling of Tobio’s little fingers against him almost burned.

Surly, Tobio, you can’t expect him not to cry with a mentality like that.

“Oh… you came back for me?”

“Yeah!”

Tooru gently pushed Tobio’s hands from his face before handing him his shoe, and smiled. “Thank you, Tobio-chan. That means a lot to me. Now let your daddy finish getting you ready, okay?”

When he stood, Tooru saw the way Akaashi was looking at him before he drew his attention somewhere else. A readable expression… surprise. Shock, even, that Tooru could get down to Tobio’s level. Come now, Akaashi: you know Iwaizumi Hajime better than most others—did you really think he would let some heartless, evil man near his child?

“Think better of me,” Tooru muttered, poking Akaashi in the cheek with his index finger and reclaiming his seat while Iwa-chan finished getting Tobio ready for the day.

 

Akaashi’s car was nice and sleek on the outside, free of dents and bird shit. The inside was clean too, smelled like a mixture of new car and the lavender air freshener that dangled down from the rearview mirror. Iwa-chan insisted on letting him get the carseat set up, but Akaashi had warned him he’d be late and needed to get going, that Akaashi could handle securing a carseat, that he’s done it before, that _you’re going to be late, Iwaizumi-san._

The heat blasting through the vents and Tobio talking to himself in the back of the car were the only noises, because for whatever reason, Akaashi refused to speak to Tooru first. Maybe he was still surprised at Tooru’s display beside the breakfast table with Tobio. Or maybe he was just an asshole who didn’t like to make conversation.

No… Tooru knew that was just his petty side talking. Akaashi wasn’t anything to worry over, he was just protective of Iwa-chan, which was fine. Tooru could understand that, even if he didn’t have the vaguest idea of why other than Tobio’s mother left him all kinds of fucked up.

Tooru wanted to speak though. He wanted to defend himself so that Akaashi would know that he’s not some kind of monster trying to suck the life out of Iwa-chan and leave Tobio parentless, or whatever it was that made Akaashi think he was so bad. Yes, he sold his body to strangers, and yes he’s not exactly the peachiest person to be around, and _yes_ he’s got his own overabundance of issues that deem him somewhat unapproachable, but he’s not a bad guy. Cut him some slack.

Even at barely eleven in the morning, the mall parking lot was packed. Granted it was a Friday, a day notorious for shopping until dropping, and Tooru was used to seeing and being a part of these kinds of crowds for work purposes, but that was more geared toward the end of the day. And what a shift this was, walking inside with a man prettier than himself and a five-year old boy who did _not_ want to wear his shoes.

Tobio strolled between them with the biggest steps he could take, hand clasped tightly around Akaashi’s index and middle finger. He’d wanted to hold Tooru’s hand too, but Tooru had shoved his hands into his pockets and pretended not to notice. Akaashi had a list written in Iwa-chan’s scrawl in bright red pen down what looked to be an old receipt from somewhere.

“Are notepads on his list?” Tooru asked, peering over at the slightly crumpled receipt in Akaashi’s possession. “If not, he’s gonna run out stuff to write on soon…”

Akaashi hummed, looking over the list to humor Tooru as if he hadn’t already read it over twelve times. “He used to write grocery lists on his hand when Tobio was smaller.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. And he’d always spell things wrong because he was in a rush.”

“How do you know?”

Akaashi tugged Tobio a bit closer to him— _don’t think I didn’t see that._ “We went together a lot before he was completely moved into his apartment. Convenience in carpooling, and whatnot. I’d asked him what he needed to get first and he would look at his hand and not know what he’d written down.”

“Iwa-chan’s dumb.” Tooru snorted. Akaashi didn’t comment, so Tooru went on to something else. “Sooooo what are we shoppin’ for?”

“Clothes for you, light bulbs, toilet paper—”

“Did we really have to make a mall trip for toilet paper?”

“—new shoes for Tobio, shoes for you, and… b-i-r-t-h-d-a-y supplies for this one.”

“Huh? When’s that?”

“The twenty-second.”

“Right before Chri—”

“Shhhhtt.” Akaashi shushed him aggressively, glancing over at him. “Don’t mention words like that in front of the c-h-i-l-d. He’ll get rowdy.”

“What are you, his mommy?” Tooru teased. As an afterthought, he murmured a soft apology for something he didn’t know what he was sorry for.

Rolling his eyes, Akaashi lead the way up the escalator to the second floor and to the first classy clothing store the mall had to offer. Tobio looked bored, wiggling a lot as the three of them walked through the store.

“The library’s dress code is pretty lax, but you should still get a few nice shirts to make a good first impression,” Akaashi said, taking a shirt from the wrack and holding it out in front of Tooru by the top of the hanger. He closed one eye, angling it for a better view, then handed Tooru the shirt. “That one will do. Find some more like it.”

“Button-ups are so boring,” Tooru whined, following Akaashi and Tobio between wracks and wracks of shirts and blazers and coats.

“They also make people believe you’re respectable,” Akaashi retorted, not looking at him. “And you need all the help you can get in that department.”

“Yikes.”

At that, Akaashi chose not to respond again, and Tooru decided then to keep any further comments to himself.

 

“I’m hungry,” Tobio announced from atop Akaashi’s shoulders, tiny finger curled into Akaashi’s hair at the top of his head.

The trio had been at the mall for about an hour and a half, collecting Tooru’s new apparel for the majority of their time there. After they’d left the second store, Tobio had decided that not only were shoes for babies, but his legs were asleep and he refused to walk anymore. He’d wanted to ride on Tooru’s shoulders, but Tooru had refused. Five stores and one nearly complete wardrobe later, Tobio decided it was lunch time.

“Food court’s this way,” Akaashi announced, keeping Tobio secured with his hands around the child’s ankles, Tooru following behind with the bags. “What do you want for lunch, Tobio?”

“Ice cream!”

Akaashi shook his head under Tobio’s hands. “Your dad said no sweets until you get home. Besides, it’s cold outside… why do you want ice cream?”

“Caaaaause I like ice cream!” Tobio said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Annnnn I don’t want nothin’ else.”

“Shame, because I’m not getting you ice cream for lunch.”

Tooru watched Tobio deflate where he sat on Akaashi’s shoulders, slumping over Akaashi’s head and letting his arms fall limp. He didn’t seem to want ice cream enough to keep arguing, and for a split second Tooru saw something resembling a smile on Akaashi’s face that quickly vanished when Akaashi noticed Tooru looking at him.

“Saw that,” Tooru chirped, matching Akaashi’s stride. Akaashi ignored him, leading the way into the open food court, only making Tooru’s amusement grow. He didn’t say anything else on the matter though, choosing to let Akaashi stew in his embarrassment.

What to eat wasn’t discussed, not that it mattered with Akaashi leading them into a line and Tooru’s stomach growling at the first whiff of food. A problem did arise however, when they were close to next in line and Tooru wound up squinting at the overhead menu, unable to clearly make out the words or prices.

“Me too,” he said casually after Akaashi had ordered, gaze falling to the floor then at the bags that hung from his arms, as if counting to make sure they were all still there, then followed Akaashi to a table once they’d been given their food.

Tobio didn’t seem to care about ice cream anymore, making an absolute of his lunch as soon as Akaashi had taken him from his shoulders and placed him into a chair. He then sat across from Tooru, waiting until he’d let the bags down from his arms and began to eat before he spoke again.

“Can you read?”

Tooru laughed. “Uh, yeah? Of course I can read…”

“You seemed to have trouble reading the menu,” Akaashi noted, leaning back in his chair before starting to pick at his food. Tooru felt those eyes on him again, burning holes into his head. “Do you just have bad eyes?”

“My eyes are fine…” Tooru assured, though he didn’t sound so sure of himself. He straightened up a bit, still looking down at the food in front of him rather than at the man across from him. “I can see up close, just, uh. Sometimes, tiny words are hard for me to read. Like, signs and menus where the print is real little or far away.”

“Ah… you need glasses then. We can stop by the—”

“No.” Tooru finally looked at him.

“No?” Akaashi raised an eyebrow. “Do you _like_ being blind?”

“I’m not—! I’m not… blind… Look, okay, I just… it’s just like I said, okay? I don’t want glasses, it’s fine. I don’t want glasses.”

“I don’t care if you _want_ them, Oikawa-san. You need them. For, you know, your job? You do know that libraries are full of tiny words, right? Have you ever read a book?”

“Y’know, I’m starting to wonder if you’re actually trying to help me, or if you’re only talking to make fun of me.”

“Yes.” Akaashi quipped. Before Tooru could get worked up, Akaashi continued. “What’s the problem though? Why don’t you want them?”

“They’re… nerdy looking. I’ll look stupid.”

“Oh my god.”

“Listen!” Tooru winced, feeling the weight of Akaashi’s stare and how much sarcasm he was trying to hold back. “My appearance is all I have. How do you think I got this far in life? I’m pretty!”

Akaashi sighed. “You sound like a teenage girl right now. What do you want me to say? That you’ll still be pretty with glasses?” He paused. “Because I’m not going to tell you that.”

“But you just—”

“You’re getting glasses, even if I have to drag you kicking and screaming to get them. We’re done talking about this now; I didn’t buy that for you to let it get cold.” And just like that, Akaashi was done, his attention falling to Tobio.

Tooru sunk back into his seat, looking at his plate, pouting. Why did Akaashi sound like such a… Mom. Maybe that was just the mode he got into when babysitting Tobio… or maybe he was always like that. He’d find out soon enough when he got the librarian position and started working with him.

…If. If he got the job.

This was an interview, right? Akaashi was getting a feel of him to see how he’d work, to see if he was cut out for the environment. If he was a suitable man for the job. Well… how hard could being a librarian really be? They check books in and out, direct people to where things are, read to children, and probably eat salads made of novella pages and tea brewed from the tears of college students who have been studying for hours on end—

“Akaashi, can I ask you something?”

Akaashi’s focus was on Tobio, dabbing a napkin against his little face. “You just did,”

“Another something.” Tooru huffed, moving on. “Why do you work at the library? No offence, you just seem like someone who’s not really a people person.”

“First of all, when someone says ‘no offence,’ it’s clearly something that’s going to come off offensive, so just save yourself the trouble and don’t start with that. Secondly…” Akaashi glanced over at him, leaning away from Tobio. “Define _people_ person.”

“Like…” Tooru gestured in a vague, circular motion with his hand as if that would help him find the words. “You don’t like people. Or aren’t good with ‘em. Stuff like that.”

Akaashi sat up all the way, silently thinking over his answer. Tooru scanned his face while he was quiet, noticing the slight crease in his brow and the tilt of his mouth.

“I’m a picky people person. I like… a specific kind of person. Usually, people who come into the library are quiet and thoughtful, or children who haven’t formed any opinions on life. People who you can have a conversation with, and it makes you think. Like, _really_ think.” Akaashi seemed to lose himself in that thought. “You’d be surprised how many people have come in with stories better than the books I’m surrounded by…”

Tooru tucked that final statement into the back of his mind. “Okay. Thanks.”

“It’s also quiet,” Akaashi added as an afterthought, shrugging lightly. “I enjoy the peace, as you can imagine... that’s another reason Iwaizumi-san says it’ll be good for you. He’s really looking out for you.”

“Don’t say that like he’s my dad.” Tooru cringed. “He doesn’t have to.”

“But he is _a_ dad. It’s ingrained in him. He wouldn’t be… he wouldn’t be the same Iwaizumi we know if he wasn’t that way.”

Akaashi was right… Tooru decided it wasn’t time to talk anymore, stomach growling to dictate the only thing he should be using his mouth for was eating. But he had a lot to think about now.

 

“Are you sure they don’t look bad?”

Tooru flinched at the way Akaashi stopped so abruptly, stepping back as the other man turned to look over his shoulder. “Oikawa-san. How many times have you asked me that?”

“Uhh… a couple—”

“Seven. You’ve asked me seven times. Twice while we were in the store, three times on the way here, and two more times since we’ve been inside. They look _fine_. Please. Stop asking.”

They’d gotten back to Iwa-chan’s apartment well past noon, around two-thirty, and Tooru has had his new glasses for all of an hour. And in that hour, Akaashi has been _this_ close, Tooru can feel it.

“Tobio, what do you think of Oikawa-san’s glasses?” Akaashi asked the boy, passing him and moving into the kitchen. Tobio placed his hand to his chin, examining Tooru in a very thoughtful manner. He looked a lot like Iwa-chan when he did that. “Don’t they look fine?”

“You look like a science. A sciencetist.”

“A scientist?” Tooru corrected, hopeful.

“Uh-huh. Smarty-pants!” Tobio beamed. “Daddy’s gonna say so, too.”

“You think?”

“Mhmmmmmm!”

Tooru felt his chest swell the tiniest bit, and he looked down to his lap, avoiding Tobio’s gaze. His new glasses slid down his nose, threatening to fall but never did. He pursed his lips, trying to visualize what Iwa-chan would think, what he’d say.

 _They look nice_ was what was most likely to be said. _You look nice_ was less likely, but still a possibility, and the one Tooru was hoping for. He was also hoping that there was a thread of a chance that Iwa-chan had a glasses fetish or something like it, because _god_ what Tooru would do for Iwa-chan to help him wind down from this otherwise stressful day.

That wasn’t very likely though.

“Do you know when Iwa-chan’s shift is over tonight?” Tooru called to Akaashi. “He’s just covering for someone, right?”

“Yes,” Akaashi responded, accompanied by the sound of the refrigerator door shutting. “He told me he’d be home around five at the earliest… I’m supposed to stay here with you and Tobio until he gets back.”

“Are you gonna stay for dinner?” Tobio interjected and jumped onto the couch beside Tooru, trying to take up as much space as possible.

“Wish I could, Tobio,” Akaashi said, turning the corner back into the living room with a juice-box ready for Tobio, setting it on the coffee table. “But I have other plans.”

Tooru perked up a bit. “Hot date with a crappy romance novel?”

“What makes you think that everything I do must involve reading?” Akaashi seemed to realize the answer before Tooru could give it. “…No. Just plans.”

 

Sure enough, Iwa-chan was home around six. He and Akaashi spoke in hushed voices in the hall for a while, leaving Tooru alone with Tobio who was long overdue for a nap and really showing it. By the time Iwa-chan finally came inside, he woke Tobio up, telling him he wasn’t allowed to sleep until bedtime, or he’d be up all night, and Akaashi peeked in to bid his farewells. Then it was back to the three of them.

“How was shopping?” Iwa-chan had yet to look at Tooru, stepping into his station (the kitchen) to prepare dinner.

“It was good… hey, you’ve been cooking all day, why don’t you just order something tonight?” Tooru popped up from the couch, Tobio half-awake beside him and watching him move on to the kitchen as he spoke. “Take-out sounds like heaven to me.”

“Eh? But I had something good planned—”

“Good _schmood,_ just… hang out with me! And Tobio. Let’s watch a movie and eat take-out, you need a break.” Tooru hugged Iwa-chan’s arm, and finally, _finally_ got him to look at him.

“Oh, hey.” Iwa-chan smiled. “I didn’t know you wore glasses.”

“Uh… first time for everything! Me with glasses, you letting yourself chill out and let someone else bring you food for once.” Tooru gave his arm a tug, managing to bring a willing Iwa-chan back to the couch. He made Iwa-chan take up the middle cushion, and Tobio immediately snuggled up to him, struggling to keep his eyes open.

“They look good on you.” Iwa-chan assured. “Why didn’t you tell me you wore glasses?”

“Because I don’t. They’re new.” Tooru folded his arms, leaning against the couch. “Akaashi made me get them because I couldn’t see the menu in the food court.”

Iwa-chan just nodded, attention drifting to his son who was absolutely asleep. “Tobs…”

“Let him sleep, he’s been up all day,” Tooru pinched Iwa-chan’s cheek to get him to look back in his direction. “If you wanna go tuck him in, I can order something? And while we wait I can model you my _swanky_ new duds.”

“Did you just say swanky…”

Tooru tore his glasses off. “yes, it’s my new Smarty-Pants-With-Glasses vocabulary, now go put your son to bed before I say something else.”

Iwa-chan snickered, scooping Tobio up in his arms. “Okay, okay. I don’t care what you get, but get me something spicy.”

“You got it~”

Iwa-chan gave Tooru his phone before carrying Tobio to his bedroom, leaving Tooru alone for the first time that day. It was quiet. He took a moment to breathe in the silence, looking down at Iwa-chan’s phone in his hands. It had been a long day, so that should warrant that he had too many thoughts in his mind to cope, right? Thoughts on Akaashi, on the job he may or may not have, on Iwa-chan’s generosity and kindness, on Tobio’s childish innocence, and how Tooru wished he could be more like them.

 _You’d be surprised how many people have come in with stories better than the books I’m surrounded by…_ Tooru bit the inside of his cheek, finally scrolling through Iwa-chan’s contacts for take-out places.

_What’s your story, Iwa-chan…?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *akaashi voice* i'm tired.


	7. a favor to you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “He’s only doing this as a favor to you.”
> 
> Iwa-chan shook his head. “No person in this world can make Akaashi Keiji do what he doesn’t want to do. He’s not doing this solely for me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if i gave chapters titles, this one's would be "akaashi keiji, a good guy? more likely than you think."
> 
> this chapter has a SEVERE lack of tobio and iwa, but it's an Oilawa's Character Development chapter... the next two will have a lot more iwaoi content.
> 
> it's also 96% dialogue. oops.

They say... if you look at yourself long enough, you’ll begin to notice things about yourself you’ve never seen before. Tooru stared at his reflection for a long, long time, hands braced against the edges of the bathroom sink, eyes narrowed from behind the thin frames of his glasses.

What was he supposed to be looking for anyway?

He’d done this all weekend. After Akaashi had left that Friday, Tooru got to model all of this new outfits (once Tobio had knocked out, leaving Tooru and Iwa-chan time to kill before their takeout arrived). He’d spent plenty of extra time looking himself over in the bathroom mirror before rushing out to show Iwa-chan his new clothes. Everything Akaashi had picked out for him, in addition to the glasses, left him looking comfortable professional, and Iwa-chan had said he’d looked like a completely different person (that could very well be because his ass wasn’t partially visible anymore) …

“Oikawa,” (speak of the angel himself—) Iwa-chan managed through what sounded like a yawn, knocking on the bathroom door. “Are you done yet?”

“I gotta brush my teeth!” Tobio added, jiggling the doorknob.

Right—Iwa-chan would be taking Tooru to work after dropping Tobio off at the neighbor’s. Tooru huffed, puffing his bangs out of his eyes even thought they’d just fall right back into place and tugged at the front of his button-down before turning to open the door.

“You look good,” Iwa-chan smiled. Tobio, on the other hand, shoved passed Tooru into the bathroom and pulled his stepstool out from beneath the sink, making Iwa-chan snicker. He patted Tooru on the shoulder as they switched placed. “I’ll be out in a minute, so be ready okay?”

“Mhm.”

Tooru moved to the couch as Iwa-chan shut the bathroom door. He pulled his legs onto the cushion, feeling the anxiety well up heavy and hard inside of him, wondering how the day would go, and felt his jaw clench. The idea that anything and everything could go wrong was stuck in his mind. Akaashi didn’t like him and that was evident, so if Tooru had even a minor slip up, what was to stop him from ending things there? Even if getting Tooru the job was a favor to Iwa-chan in the first place, that didn’t guarantee anything.

Never in his life has Tooru wanted something so badly, which was weird considering that something was a job. A real job. That he’d have to wake up early for and deal with people daily, something he’d never done before, _that kind_ of real job. And he wanted it. Really bad.

He came out of his thoughts to put on his new shoes. They weren’t broken in but they were comfortable nonetheless. While doing so, the bathroom door opened and shut, and Tobio’s tiny steps got louder and quicker as he ran into the room, minty fresh.

“Is the Wizard going to teach you magic?” He asked, placing his small hands on his cheeks and looking at Tooru with those big, dark eyes of his.

Out of the corner of Tooru’s eye, he saw Iwa-chan appear from the hallway, wiping his hands on the front of his shirt. He looked back down at Tobio and shrugged. “He may. I don’t think he likes me, so maybe not.”

“Huh? Who, Akaashi?” asked Iwa-chan.

Tooru nodded, glancing over at Iwa-chan as he stood, digging his heel into his shoe. “He doesn’t like me very much, so I’m not sure he’ll show me how to do magic tricks.”

Tobio seemed frustrated by that information, reaching out to grab Tooru’s hand and look it over. Tooru did everything in his power to not jerk his hand away—don’t _touch_ him, Tobio—

“The Wizard likes everyone,” Tobio said to Tooru’s hand, squinting at it. “He’s just bad at it.”

What a weirdly… introspective thing for a five-year-old to say. Tooru looked at Iwa-chan again before Tobio finally let go of his hand and went to put his own shoes on. “Just bad at it, huh?”

Iwa-chan only smiled.

 

Tooru was quiet on the way to work. He sat back against the passenger seat, hands fisted against his knees as Iwa-chan drove, eyes narrowed out the steering wheel but not really looking at anything. When they’d dropped Tobio off, he’s given Iwa-chan his usual tight hug, but after he moved to give Tooru one, too. Tooru couldn’t stop thinking about the hurt look on the kid’s face when he was rejected, Tooru stepping back to get out of his reach.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like Tobio. Tobio was a good boy. A little loud sometimes, but he was a child. And Tooru did like him—he was Iwa-chan’s son after all. But… he didn’t need to be near a child, so pure and innocent and ignorant to the terrible world around him. Tobio was too good, too soft, too fragile. Tooru didn’t want to see that innocence wash away if he touched him with his dirty hands.

Iwa-chan was older, wiser, stronger and less guarded from the evils of the outside because he _knew_ , so Tooru had less of a problem with wanting to touch him—

“You okay?” Iwa-chan asked, as if on cue.

“Define ‘okay.’”

Iwa-chan reached over to flick Tooru, who flinched. “I’ll reword it. Are you anxious?”

There was a pause. Tooru looked out his window at the pink, early-day clouds. Didn’t look like snow would be an issue today despite the cold… he sighed. “Wouldn’t you be?” Tooru murmured in question. “It’s my first day, first job—uh… _real_ job. And Akaashi doesn’t like me, so that only makes it more fun.”

“You’re going to be fine,” Iwa-chan said, slowing down as the car approached the pothole in the asphalt. “And, Akaashi doesn’t _not_ like you. Stop worrying about that so much.”

“How can you know that?” Tooru grumbled, leaning his head against the cold glass of the window. “He’s only doing this as a favor to you.”

Iwa-chan shook his head. “No person in this world can make Akaashi Keiji do what he doesn’t want to do. He’s not doing this solely for me.”

“Okay, but, the majority is because of you.” Said Tooru, glancing over at the other.

“Maybe. But not entirely.”

Tooru folded his arms, closing his eyes. “Glad I’m worth a fraction of his freewill.”

Iwa-chan didn’t say anything after that. To fill the silence, he reached over to turn the volume of the radio up. Tooru pursed his lips at that but chose to let the song play rather than say anymore. Maybe a ride like that would do him some good, what with the anxiety bubbling in his stomach.

The more he thought about it, the closer Tooru got to the conclusion that he was not ready for this. Being in a professional, public environment with Akaashi’s judgmental eyes burning holes through him and Iwa-chan’s faith clinging to Tooru by the shoulders only made it more evident that this wasn’t something he should be doing. No one had ever tried so hard for him. And he knew that Akaashi was also risking a lot by doing Iwa-chan this favor.

It made his heart ache at the thought of disappointing either of them, but at the same time, not taking the opportunity would only make them more disappointed. Having someone rely on him was so foreign…

“We’re here,” Iwa-chan nudged Tooru’s arm, breaking him away from his suffocating thoughts. “You’re a little early, but Akaashi should be here soon. I’d wait with you but I’m already cutting it close—”

“Okay, gotcha,” Tooru lifted a hand to stop him, using his other to click off his seatbelt and open his door. A cold burst of wind hit him and he shivered, zipping his coat up all the way before getting out. “When are you picking me up?”

Iwa-chan tapped the steering wheel to the beat of the song playing on the radio. “Uh—I get off around four thirty today so I'll be here by five…”

“You sound confused, Iwa-chan.”

He swallowed. “I mean… _today_ I’ll be able to pick you up, but I have a long shift tomorrow through Friday.”

Tooru furrowed his brow. Iwa-chan worked long hours, he’d noticed, all the years knowing him and in the short time he’d been staying with him, his full shift was nearly ten hours. Eleven on busy days because he’s too damn nice to leave during a rush. Tooru felt worse knowing that for Tobio’s sake; he spent more time with the neighbor than with his own father.

“So what’s that mean for me?” Tooru finally asked, tone sour. “You want me to get a ride? I mean, I’m used to walking the streets at night but never for a ride home—”

“I—” Iwa-chan said, loudly to cut him off, “I’ll figure something out, just get through the day and don’t screw anything up. There’s a lot riding on this—”

“You’re going to be late,” Tooru sighed. “I won’t… screw this up. You worked too hard to get this for me. Have a good day, okay?” He paused, wanting to leave things on a lighter note. “And bring something special home for dinner! That’ll motivate me more than anything~”

Iwa-chan opened his mouth to speak, but hesitated. He was clearly going to say something else, but changed his mind before he could, and smiled trying to cover it up. “Okay. Hope it’s a good first day.”

Tooru shut the door and stepped onto the pavement, waving Iwa-chan off. It was cold outside, his breath visible with each exhale. He was better dressed for it this time, better equipped to fight the cold, all thanks to Iwa-chan, and just thinking that made Tooru feel a little warmer.

If Akaashi wasn’t there yet, that left Tooru with no option other than to wait for him. He stuck his hands in the pockets of his coat, taking in the sight of the library. Standing there, staring at the well-kept brick building gave him nostalgia, back when he was in junior high and the library was somewhere he found himself going a lot. The Tooru of a more innocent time who read books on space and the never-ending vastness of the universe.

He wished he could still be that Tooru. The one who looked up at the night sky and could name every constellation, identify every planet… Iwa-chan would like that Tooru more.

Sighing, Tooru dropped his gaze from the bricks down to the tiny, frost-dyed bushes that lined the outside. Below one of the winter-worn shrubs was a stubby piece of purple chalk probably left there by someone not much older than Tobio. He crouched down, balancing on his heels to pick it up, and hummed to himself before shifting around to begin scribbling on the sidewalk.

Tooru wasn’t much of an artist, and there wasn’t a lot he could do with so little chalk left, but it helped pass the time. He drew a few stars, crisscross style, a crescent moon that was a little too fat on the bottom, but who did he look like, _Picasso?_ No—

“You can’t do that.”

Tooru’s soul left his body for a brief moment, chalk cracking in his fearful vice grip. His eyes trailed along beside him at the short shadow leading up to a double layered Akaashi with a coffee thermos in his left hand.

 _You scared the piss out of me._ “Why not?”

“It’s vandalism.”

Tooru glanced down at his crude doodle of the night sky, then back up at Akaashi. “It…it’s chalk on a public sidewalk.”

“Sorry. It’s because I said so.” Akaashi amended. Tooru pouted as he rose to his feet, tossing the stump of chalk beneath the bush he’d found it under as Akaashi spoke again. “Why are you out here?”

Dusting his hands off on his coat, Tooru shrugged. “I was waiting for you.”

“Let me reword my question. Why aren’t you _inside._ ”

A pause. “I… uh… it’s locked? The doors are locked.”

“No?” Akaashi raised an eyebrow. “It’s? They’re not,”

“Oh,” Oikawa felt a little too warm now.

“Did you even check?”

“I assumed you unlock ‘em when you get here…”

“I’m not the first one here in the mornings,” Akaashi said, starting to walk again. Tooru followed at his heels.

“Oh. I thought you like… ran the library.”

“What gave you that impression?” Akaashi pushed open the large doors, holding one open so Tooru wouldn’t get hit on his way in, and continued into the library lobby.

Inside was huge, smelling warm and like old storybooks. Big, sturdy shelves lined the walls farthest from them, covered in large books that Tooru imagined were just for show. Then there were shelves that crossed the floor and rose high, housing books on both sides. Comfy chairs and tables took up space near the middle of the lobby, and there was a pair of vending machines close by. A sign for the Kid’s Section hung from the ceiling to the left of them, and the young-adult and onward took over the left, along with the check-out counter.

“This is so classy,” Tooru murmured, forgetting Akaashi’s question as he trailed behind the librarian to the checkout desk.

“It’s just a library,” responded Akaashi. Once they were behind the counter, Akaashi started to tug off his layers—a wool scarf and heavy grey coat that he laid on the back of a rolling chair—leaving him in a navy sweater. “There are better.”

“Well, it’s been a while since I…” Tooru shook his head. He shimmied off his own coat and sat in the vacant chair, leaving his coat draped over his legs like a small blanket. “So. Are we open? When do the kids and stoners show up?”

The blank stare on Akaashi’s face made Tooru feel colder than he did when he was outside. “All the schools are on winter break for the holidays, so odds are you won’t see many children here for a while.”

“That’s fine with me!”

“I’m sure.” Akaashi leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes for a moment before reaching over for his thermos and uncapping it, sipping through the stream. When he put it down, he looked Tooru over. “If you’re interested, there’s a coffee machine in the office—” he nudged his head towards the door behind them. “Iwaizumi-san tells me you’re not a fan of black coffee.”

Akaashi making conversation with him was a little unsettling. It felt too soon, too nice for someone who disliked him so much prior to be striking up small-talk. But maybe Iwa-chan was right; maybe Akaashi was just a nice guy that was tough to get along with… and he did have Iwa-chan’s best interest at heart…

Tooru nodded. “Yeah… it’s good to wake up with, but it’s a little bitter for my tastes.”

“Oh…? Funny. I’d imagine you’re pretty well accustomed to bitter things in your mouth.”

Ah.

There it was.

It was bound to come eventually, wasn’t it? Tooru smiled. “Why are you thinking about me like that?” _Two can play at this game, Akaashi._ “Thought you of all people would have your mind out of the gutter.”

“Worry about your own gutter,” Akaashi said, acting unfazed but the bite in his voice didn’t go unnoticed.

The smile faltered, Tooru’s brows shooting down as his fingers curled into his coat. “Me? You’re the one implying I like giving blowjobs!”

“Oh—oh my god,” Akaashi snapped, putting his thermos down with a little too much force. “Would you keep your voice down? We are in a _library_ —”

“An _empty_ library!” Tooru shot back. “The perfect place to give a lucky man the best blow of his li—”

“ _So,_ uh, this must be Oikawa!” Came a third voice from behind the duo, chipper yet restrained. Tooru bit his cheek, eyes blown and locked onto Akaashi who avoided eye contact at all cost. “How, um… pleasant to meet you!”

Tooru stood from his chair, turning awkwardly to face the person addressing him. A shorter man with platinum hair (dyed or real? Impossible to tell.) and warm brown eyes, with a beauty mark under his left. This man already intimidated Tooru more than Akaashi did.

“ _He_ runs the library,” Akaashi spoke up from his chair. “Good morning, Sugawara-san.”

“Morning! It’s a cold one today, yeah?” Sugawara grinned, placing his attention back on Oikawa as he reached out toward him, hand ready for shaking. “I’m Sugawara, first name Koushi, but you can call me Suga.”

What a difference this man was compared to Akaashi. They work together? Like… every day? _Together?_ Tooru took his hand and shook it. “Oikawa Tooru. Nice to meet you, I’ve heard… nothing about you.”

“Ah yeah, good! I told Akaashi not to mention me; I wanted my first impression to be genuine.”

 _Oh, fuck._ Tooru’s heart dropped as Suga released his hand. “I’m sorry.”

Suga’s brow perked up. “For?”

“Uh… what… you heard me say?”

Suga shrugged. “Do you see anyone here?”

Tooru looked over his shoulder at the empty library, then towards Akaashi who was back to drinking his coffee, and finally back to Suga. “No one other than us…”

“Then you’re fine. We all have outbursts, it’s okay,” Suga said, voice golden, and gave Tooru’s shoulder a pat. “Akaashi’s already told me all I need to know about you anyway, so if a comment about fellatio is the worst of what we’ll have here, I’m not too worried.”

Tooru felt the weight drop from his shoulders, exhaling heavily with relief. “Oh, thank god. I thought you were gonna tell me to leave, I was ready to get on my knees and cry,”

“A sight I’m sure many have seen,” Akaashi murmured, quiet enough to hear, loud enough that it left Tooru unsure if he was meant to hear it.

Suga waved Akaashi off. “Hush, you.” He smiled at Tooru again. “So, I’ll just give you a quick rundown of the job and what you’ll be doing. Akaashi’s going to train you with everything you’ll need to know from this point, okay?”

“Wait—I got the job?”

Both men appeared to be surprised by his question.

“You’re here, aren’t you?” Asked Suga.

“I thought… there’d be some process… or like, an interview, or—”

“The interview was Friday,” Akaashi cut him off. There was something deep in his tone telling Tooru to stop talking about it. “You were so anxious, you must’ve forgotten…”

“Oh… okay… sure.”

Suga looked between the two of them, questions forming on his tongue, but he decided against asking them. “Must have been a stressful interview… no worries, though! This is a real easy position. Most of the time you’ll be sitting behind this desk or putting books back on shelves, so you’ll get the hang of it real soon.” Suga hummed, taking a breath.

“…Okay, so, to the left of the lobby when you first walk in,” he began, signaling left. “I’m sure you didn’t miss the sign, but that’s aaaaalll the kid’s section. Books for all ages between infant and twelve years are on that side, and that’s where the story-time corner is. Sometimes we have volunteers for that, like parents or older siblings or teachers, and other times it’s yours truly or Akaashi. If you ever want to, you can, too!”

Akaashi looked like he wanted to say something, but instead he pulled out his phone to occupy himself.

“Everything on the right side of the lobby when you first walk in, including the shelves near us,” Suga said, gesturing in front of the counter and then rightwards, “is sorted young-adult to adult. We have classics and poetry and biographies, autobiographies, all of the nonfiction stuff is in this main middle section, and then the fiction and comics and what have you is all the way on through the end. Hm… oh also, farther right are some computers set up. Usually I’m monitoring them from my office; you’d be surprised how many people come in here with no shame and watch porn on those things, I… okay, but! Does all of that make sense so far?”

“Yeah,”

“Good! So basically, what you do is your average librarian job. You’ll check books in, you’ll check books out. You’ll put them back where they belong or at the very least, you’ll sort through them and put them in alphabetical order and in order from which section they go in… that’s really it.” Suga finished. “Any questions?”

“Uh… no, none. You made it sound pretty clear.” Tooru answered, smiling nervously. “I’ll do my best.”

“I know you will!” Suga said, reaching out to pat his shoulder again. “If Akaashi trusts you, then I have complete faith in you.” Tooru shot a look over towards Akaashi, still on his phone and refusing to look at them. Squeezing his shoulder to get Tooru’s attention back on him, Suga dropped his hand and gave the two of them a two-fingered salute. “I’ll be in the back if either of you need me!”

Suga turned away from them and moved into the office, leaving Tooru alone with Akaashi at the counter, and Tooru sat. When the office door shut, Akaashi quietly put his phone back into his pocket and beckoned Tooru over to him.

“As far as Sugawara-san knows,” Akaashi began, voice low, “I interviewed you on Friday. I may have twisted the truth just a bit.”

“I mean… that could have counted as an interview, right?” Tooru asked, hands braced to the armrests of his chair.

Akaashi gave him a one-shouldered shrug. “Not a professional or accurate one… but that’s not all I’m talking about. He doesn’t… he doesn’t _know_ your situation. I made something up for the sake of you landing the position.”

Tooru’s jaw dropped. “You _lied_ for m—”

“ _Shhh—_ shh,” Akaashi hushed him, brow pinched. “Yes. I lied for you as a favor to Iwaizumi-san, because there is absolutely no way Sugawara-san would have gone for this otherwise.”

Mixed signals, that’s what these were. Akaashi lied for him with no motivation other than to help him—to help Iwa-chan, rather—and did it willingly. Akaashi _lied_ for him, to his _boss_ who could _fire_ him. He was taking a risk for someone he clearly disliked. Tooru exhaled as the thought came up… Akaashi was a good person.

Helping Tooru… who was not a good person. Oh, dear.

“What…what’d you tell him?”

“I told him that you’re a high school dropout—don’t look at me like that. From your third year. Not like you were losing much.”

“You couldn’t have said college?”

Akaashi blinked. “A high school dropout due to problems at home, otherwise you would have passed with high honors. Does that make you feel better?”

“That’s actually a little _too_ close, but... yeah.” Oikawa huffed. “What else?”

“This is your first job. First _official_ job. So you’re extremely nervous and your people skills are a bit rusty, but Sugawara understands social anxiety better than most, so he was more than willing to give you a shot.”

“I can’t believe you lied for me.”

“It’s not entirely a lie if I was close to the truth,” Akaashi hummed, leaning back in his chair. “Either way, though. He knows what he needs to know, so don’t talk about your…” he gestured vaguely with one hand while reaching for his thermos with the other. “You know. Past jobs.”

Tooru nodded silently. After Akaashi took one more sip of his coffee and sat his thermos down, he stood and stretched his arms over his shoulders before placing his hands on his hips. “Alright. Let’s get started.”

 

Iwa-chan kept true to his word, showing up around five with Styrofoam containers keeping the passenger seat warm for Tooru. The car was warm and smelled like Iwa-chan’s cooking when Tooru got in, holding the containers in his lap once buckled in.

On the driver’s side, Akaashi stood by the window and conversed with Iwa-chan about Tooru’s first day while Tooru occupied himself with peeking into the containers and getting a face-full of steam, fogging up his glasses. He quickly shut the lid before Iwa-chan could yell at him for eating in the car.

“—and Sugawara-san seems to like him pretty well, so I think things will be fine,” Tooru heard Akaashi say. He smiled to himself, drumming his fingers against the warm Styrofoam.

“That’s good to hear… thanks again. For this, I mean. It means a lot Keij—”

Akaashi lifted a hand, shutting Iwa-chan up—did everyone do that to him? It sure seemed like it. Tooru snickered as Akaashi spoke. “Don’t. It’s what friends do. Tell Tobio I said hello.”

Tooru blocked the rest of the conversation out, looking through the window at his dusty scribble of the night sky in purple chalk. It made him think about Tobio’s drawing of the two of them and Iwa-chan, and the crudely drawn dragon, how Tobio insisted his father was going to save Tooru from all of the bad monsters around him.

 _He’s sure trying his best, Tobio-chan._ Tooru told himself, pressing his forehead to the window and closing his eyes.

How strange it all was. Tooru had a job—a real job—living in a real, warm and loving home. That’s how life was supposed to be, wasn’t it? So why did it feel so unnatural? Or maybe it was just him. He was merely an addition to the household, something he was undeserving of. Underserving of such a nice change to his world. Undeserving of people like Iwa-chan wanting to help him…

When Tooru opened his eyes again, it was to Iwa-chan nudging his shoulder. He turned, eyes half-shut and forehead red from falling asleep against the window.

“We’re home, Sleeping Beauty,” Iwa-chan teased, clicking both his and Tooru’s seatbelt buckles off, then reaching over and taking the containers from his lap. “Let’s get inside and eat, I made something special for you like you asked.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for sticking with me, y'all. i know i take forever but writing is hard and i want these chapters to turn out good because, the way the story goes in my head is hard to convey and my vocabulary isn't as vast as id like it to be... but hey! next chapter wont take three months and heres why: no more school B) !!!!!!!!! forever!!!!
> 
> also, there will be another important and good boy appearing in the next chapter <:


	8. questionable judgement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I already know you don’t like me, so I don’t have anything to lose by asking you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alternatively titled: oikawa overthinks the entire time and feels guilty about everything
> 
> alternatively titled (part 2): this chapter is so many things im sorry it took so long

For someone who knew a lot of things about _a lot of things,_ there are others that Tooru chooses not to question, such as what happened between Iwa-chan and his Baby-Mama, or how Iwa-chan convinced Akaashi to take him home every day. Both questions linger on his tongue more often than not, but to actually ask them? Absolutely would result in catastrophe, so no thanks.

The first time Tooru had been in Akaashi’s car had been for a trip to the mall that Iwa-chan couldn’t make with them, and honestly Tooru didn’t think in that moment he’d ever be in Akaashi’s car again, but there they were, Tuesday through Friday for the next two weeks without much conversation between them. It wasn’t a comfortable silence by any means, but as of the last few rides, the talking has picked up. Just a little. Nothing for Tooru to get excited about.

Another thing Tooru didn’t want to question was the man he’d noticed coming into the library. Weird hair, big eyes, always looking at Akaashi when he thought Akaashi wouldn’t notice. It was kind of cute in a creepy way how Akaashi had an admirer he chose to ignore…

Iwa-chan bid Tooru off with a smile and a wave before speeding out of the library parking lot, leaving Tooru alone on the sidewalk to watch his breath fog up. He never went inside immediately after being dropped off, not since his first day. It still felt awkward and stuffy, not to mention he could go the few extra minutes without Akaashi’s judgmental eyes burning holes through his otherwise freezing body.

“Happy Thursday,” Suga greeted him when he did make it inside to the front counter.

“Morning,” Akaashi murmured, eyes lowered to his phone. There was a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. One more thing for Tooru to add to his list of things not to ask about no matter how badly he wanted to be nosey.

“G’morning,” Tooru saluted the duo with two fingers, settling into the chair beside Akaashi’s.

“Getting closer to Christmas,” said Suga, leaning against the doorframe that lead to his office. He rubbed his hands together either to warm them or for emphasis. “Either of you have plans?”

Akaashi still didn’t look up from his phone. “I’ll probably be visiting the nest against my will like every year.”

And while the joke, whatever it was, goes right over Tooru’s head, it still got a laugh from Suga. “Oh, you love it.”

“I do, but it’s so fucking _loud,_ ”

“The nest?” Tooru joined in. He wanted to know! “Is that like a bar or something?”

 _“God_ , I wish,” Akaashi huffed, making Suga laugh again. “No it’s… never mind.”

“It’s his Christmas tradition, let’s just say that,” Suga hummed, and Akaashi nodded. “What about you, hm? Big plans?”

Tooru leaned back against his chair, thinking. No big plans… as far as he knew, he’d still be living with Iwa-chan and Tobio. He _hoped_ , at least. “Whatever Iwa-chan and Tobio are doing is what I’ll be doing, I guess.”

“Iwaizumi-san usually gets forced to take time off for the holidays if he doesn’t take it himself,” Akaashi informed, glancing up at Tooru before letting his eyes fall back down to the screen.

“They force him?”

“Mm… he has to work very hard to stay where he’s at, money is always tight for him too, what with Tobio and his…extra expenses,” Akaashi informed, vaguely accusing. “It used to be worse, though.”

“I’d hope he’d take at _least_ Christmas off to spend with his son,” Suga frowned.

“He works himself into exhaustion,” Akaashi commented, agreeing. “I haven’t gotten to see him until lately because of it, but like I said. He’s gotten better. Tobio’s a lot happier now than when Iwaizumi first started working there…”

How come everybody but Tooru knows so much about Iwa-chan? Tooru pouted, mostly to himself, ready to speak up but didn’t get the chance before Suga spoke for him. “With Oikawa-san living with him, money will definitely be less of an issue,”

And for _some reason,_ Akaashi had the nerve to look aggravated by that statement.

“Yeah…” Tooru smiled regardless of Akaashi’s sour attitude, folding his arms over his lap.

Silence fogged between the three of them, leading Tooru to move into a thinking state. He always knew from the moment he met Iwa-chan that he was a hardworker. An overachiever who works until he can’t. Tooru couldn’t imagine the way Tobio must have felt, even if he was still just a baby, not having his father around much because of work. And not having his mother around… _ever._

He could ask Akaashi how that worked out, but asking Akaashi what happened with Tobio’s mother would probably backfire on him about as badly as asking Iwa-chan himself. No matter how much Tooru wanted to know the gossip and be in the loop, he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Suga mentioned something about his own holiday plans, but Tooru was too deep in his own thoughts to remember what was said before Suga had moved back into the office to get started on his own work.

Had Tobio ever mentioned his mother? Ever asked about her? Did he know her? The list just grew longer and longer, Tooru’s brow furrowing the more he thought about it. Tobio looked exactly like Iwa-chan when he laughed really hard or when the frustration built up and showed in lines creasing his brow, but otherwise, Iwa-chan’s son didn’t look like him. Was she pretty? She had to be, must have been, with sleek black hair and dark blue eyes… must have been for Iwa-chan to create a child with her.

That brought up another thought. Iwa-chan was Tooru’s age while Tobio was already five, almost six years old. Iwa-chan and Tobio’s mother had him very young… so did that mean Tobio wasn’t planned? No. Of course not. Two teenagers don’t _plan_ a baby, teenagers don’t plan shit!

So Tobio had to be an accident. An accident that his mother was not ready to deal with and leave Iwa-chan to clean up the mess on his own.

Or… maybe Tooru was thinking too hard into it all. But with the way everyone danced around the subject whether Tobio was in the room or not, and so many pieces of this puzzle still so far out of Tooru’s reach, he couldn’t know. And he wouldn’t ask for the pieces to be handed to him, either.

“Just how hard are those little gears in your head working right now?”

Huh? Tooru lifted his head, looking over at Akaashi who had long since put his phone away. He had his elbow crooked against the counter, hand curled into a fist with his cheek resting against it, eyes lidded yet glued to Tooru’s face.

Tooru blinked. “What?”

“You seem extremely focused on something.” Akaashi said, shifting his posture and dropping his arm so his hand dangled over their side of the counter. “Like you’re trying to solve a mystery.”

“Was I thinking out loud?” How _embarrassing—_

“No,” Akaashi answered. Tooru exhaled through his nose in relief, dropping his head and scratching the back of his neck. “But it’s evident that you’re thinking too hard about whatever it is.”

“Sorry.”

“Wh…Okay.” Akaashi shrugged him off, turning in his chair. “I wasn’t complaining. Just seemed like you were getting worked up. You were making a face.”

 _Was I?_ Yeah, he probably was.

 

There’s that guy again!

Akaashi had gone into the office in search of something to snack on that didn’t require him to fight a vending machine, leaving Oikawa all alone at the counter to fend for himself. Tooru saw the guy come in, pretended not to be watching when the guy looked towards him, peering around Tooru in search of Akaashi. Man! He really did have an admirer!

When it dawned on this mysterious man that Akaashi was not in his usual spot behind the desk, he moved on to look at the titles lined up on bookshelves, feigning interest in the one he’d picked out and opened. Step one in looking more suspicious than necessary: do that.

Tooru turned his head when he heard Akaashi’s chair squeak beside him, the librarian looking disinterested with the wrapped mochi that Suga had most likely offered him during his search.

 _He’s back,_ Tooru passed inconspicuous glances between Akaashi and the mystery man before rolling his chair over the floor to close the gap, getting a weird look from Akaashi when Tooru entered his bubble.

“That guy’s back,” he said in a hushed tone. “That guy that’s always lookin’ at you.”

“Okay,” Akaashi didn’t seem phased. “And?”

“I think he’s got a crush on you,”

“Oh. Really now.”

Tooru deflated. “I can’t tell if you actually care or not.”

Akaashi bit into the mochi, nose wrinkling. Either he didn’t care, or he didn’t particularly like this flavor. Tooru was willing to bet his life on the first one as Akaashi chewed, swallowing it down. “You’re just nosey.”

“How am I—!” yelling in a library, Tooru? Really? One hand over his mouth, Tooru tossed another sly peek over his shoulder only to see that Mystery Man was gone and the book he’d been idling with was back in its place. Had he heard him? Tooru dropped his hand to his lap and looked back at Akaashi, mochi now gone and wrapping tossed into the wastebasket beneath the counter. “It’s not nosey if he’s always here looking at you or for you, unavoidable by my eyes.”

“So close your eyes.”

“Are you being serious?” His whispers became hisses.

Akaashi started to smile at Tooru’s frustration, shrugging and folding his own arms. “Are you?” What a coy bitch. “You’re getting worked up again. Don’t pay attention to it if it bothers you.”

“It doesn’t bother me,” Tooru insisted, eyes narrowing behind his glasses. “Why would it bother me?”

“Because he’s not here to gawk at you.”

There are days when Tooru is positive he and Akaashi are starting to finally get along. Days when Akaashi holds a conversation with him even if it’s just short sentences, when Akaashi makes jokes that aren’t entirely at his expense. This was almost one of those days. However, Akaashi has a tendency, apparently, that when he sees that he and Tooru are having a good day, he must crush it under the weight of his judgement along with any hope Tooru had of being his friend. Or acquaintance, even. Of being someone he didn’t look at with distain as if Tooru were a bug.

That’s all he was to Akaashi though; a bug. A pest. One that was leeching off Iwa-chan’s kindness. That’s what Akaashi saw when he looked at Tooru, and Tooru knew that.

Even so, Tooru refused to give him back the same treatment no matter how badly he wanted to. Akaashi was Iwa-chan’s friend. His _best_ friend (somehow). Tooru owed a lot to Iwa-chan, for what he’s done for him in the past and what he was currently doing for him, and Tooru wouldn’t ruin that by mirroring Akaashi’s nasty attitude.

He couldn’t think _all_ terrible things, could he? Iwa-chan had to have talked Tooru up… at least a little. Akaashi was so unimpressed with him, but he still got Tooru this shot. This chance. And lied so Tooru could get it…

So, with that in mind, he inhaled and sat up a little straighter. “Sorry.”

Akaashi noted the passive aggression in that _sorry_ but chose not to address it, pocketing his phone instead.

 _Why are you so hard to like?_ Tooru thought, gaze dropping from Akaashi to the floor, jaw tightening. It was unclear if he meant Akaashi or himself at this point.

“I’m aware of his affections,” said Akaashi, softly, after a long stretch of silence. His tone wasn’t as accusing as before. Maybe he’d decided he’d tortured Tooru enough for one day. “He makes it fairly obvious. It’s cute.”

“Yeah…” Tooru agreed, mildly surprised by Akaashi’s usage of the word _cute_. “How long?”

“Mm?”

Tooru looked up, eyes wandering and looking at anything but Akaashi. “How long’s he been coming around here just to stare at you?”

“Since I started working here, I believe,” Akaashi hummed.

“Wow…” Tooru drawled. And really, he was expecting a comment about how he was no better, how he’d been so infatuated by Iwa-chan for the past few years that he was the same as this mystery man, but Akaashi made no such comment. “I think… you should give him a shot.”

“What?”

“He’s crushing hard, y’know… or at least it seems like it. You should ask him out. If you’re into him, I mean. If you’re into… that.”

Akaashi looked up from his phone, trying really hard to hold back a smile for some reason, making Tooru feel lost. “You think so, huh?”

“I do.” Nodding, Tooru gestured past Akaashi. “Now’s your chance, he’s standing by the comics.”

Akaashi listening to Oikawa was one thing, yeah, because he had no choice in the matter. But Akaashi, standing up and acting on what Oikawa suggested was an entirely new subject that was almost knocked Tooru out of his chair.

“Hey,” Akaashi said, loud enough that the man heard him but not quite yelling, and Mystery Man immediately looked up from the comic he definitely was not reading. He smiled a little, but looked nervous as he approached, while Tooru was absolutely eating this shit up already, gnawing his bottle lip away.

“I thought—” Mystery Man started, but Akaashi shushed him with a finger to his lips.

“Shh. Let’s get married,” Akaashi offered, tone casual.

Tooru felt his body die instantly, cold and unsure if he’d heard that right. Married? But! What?!

Mystery man blinked his eyes open wide, looking just as confused as Tooru felt before Akaashi leaned over the counter to kiss him on the cheek. “I’m hungry, let’s go out for lunch, too.”

“Y…yeah… yeah! Okay!” And just like that, Mystery Man was grinning like crazy.

Akaashi told him to wait by the front and he’d be there in a moment, to which the man nodded and hurried on his way while Akaashi moved into the back to inform Suga he was taking his lunchbreak elsewhere. When he returned to put his coat on, he paused to look at Tooru, whose mouth was agape with silent screams.

“You told me to go for it,” Akaashi quipped as his farewell, walking out from behind the counter to join the other man for lunch.

Tooru still sat there, eyes wide, jaw dropped in both amazement and fear with no idea what just happened despite it playing out clearly in front of him. Not only did Akaashi listen to him, but he took it way too far. Mystery Man had an obvious crush but for fucks sake Akaashi, that’s not how you…? Well. Maybe it was. Tooru didn’t know.

 

He didn’t ask Akaashi about his lunch date with Mystery Man. Didn’t dare ask the man’s name. Lucky for him, it was just another slow day in the library, because he couldn’t process anything else.

After Suga’s goodbyes at the end of the day when he walked the duo to Akaashi’s car, Tooru sat in the passenger seat, silenced with his hands folded in his lap and brow creased.

“Don’t think too hard,” Akaashi hummed knowingly, both hands on the wheel. The amusement in his voice wasn’t trying to hide, no, it was very much there. “You might break something.”

Tooru continued to stare forward at the dashboard. “I don’t get it.”

“I’m a dreamboat, obviously,” replied Akaashi, so matter-of-factly that Tooru might believe him if he didn’t already know that Akaashi was actually evil. “What’s there left to get?”

“Nothing, I guess,” Tooru rolled his eyes. It felt like a total role swap. Akaashi was acting cocky, while Tooru sat there in his bubble feeling irritated. He’d planned on venting to Iwa-chan when he got home anyway, just about life in general, but now he had substance to it.

Akaashi drummed his fingers against the steering wheel at the red light that led to Iwa-chan’s apartment building. Tooru didn’t have much to say for the remainder of the ride as it was, and Akaashi never spoke unless addressed, so it was quiet up until they turned into the parking lot, Tooru unclicking his seatbelt when Akaashi stopped the car. There was something else still on his mind; he wanted to know against his better judgement.

Before Tooru got out of the car, he looked at Akaashi. “Can I ask you something?”

He was expecting an answer like _you just did, now get out of my car,_ but what he got instead was a “depends on what it’s about,” and a “go for it.”

“It’s about Tobio-chan’s mother.”

Tooru sat firm, watching Akaashi’s jaw clench then relax.

“I’ve never met her,” Akaashi told him after a moment when Tooru didn’t go on. “I don’t know her.”

“Okay… does Tobio-chan?”

“I don’t think you should be asking me that.”

“Does he?”

Akaashi frowned. “I don’t know.”

Tooru copied Akaashi’s frown. “What _do_ you know about her?”

“Not much. Even if I knew more, I wouldn’t tell you the woes of Iwaizumi-san’s life. It’s not my business to tell, and it’s not yours to know.”

“You know more than you’re letting on—”

Akaashi turned in his seat, seatbelt straining against him. What remained of his prior amusement was out the window, smashed like the icicles Iwa-chan had to knock off his car every morning. “Why are you asking _me?”_

“Because I don’t want Iwa-chan to hate me if I ask him.” Tooru answered fast and honest, curling his hands into fists. “I already _know_ you don’t like me, so I don’t have anything to lose by asking you.”

That was true. As much as Tooru wanted Akaashi to accept him, he didn’t care about that like he cared staying on Iwa-chan’s good side. That meant more to him than anything, and knowing that all things having to do with Tobio were a sore spot for Iwa-chan; risking his own good standing by bringing up something unmentioned yet touchy as Tobio’s mother was…scary, to say the least.

“I’m not asking you to tell me everything you know about Iwa-chan’s life, I just… I need to know.” Tooru was seconds from begging, voice soft but serious. “So please, be honest with me if you know. Has Tobio-chan ever met his mother?”

His pleads brought Akaashi to silence, Tooru’s eyes searching for any sign on Akaashi’s face that he was going to break his arms if Tooru didn’t get out of his car. It took a long moment of quiet, the car’s engine the only sounds between them, when Akaashi finally broke eye contact and sighed, turning to face the wheel again.

“Iwaizumi-san has not heard from her since Tobio was born. So, no, Tobio has never met his mother and doesn’t know who she is, and Iwaizumi-san hopes to keep it that way.”

That was that. Tooru stayed a few moments longer to see if Akaashi had anything else to add (which he didn’t), and got out of the car, heading inside before he froze to death as Akaashi drove off. The cold melted off of him when he stepped inside of the building, heat on full blast, cozy enough that it made him feel sleepy.

Tooru hurried to the elevator, hands stuffed into the pockets of his coat to keep his fingers warm. The ride up was slow, leisurely even, and Tooru closed his eyes, leaning against the wall of the elevator as it rose. He was very much awake, even if the thought of napping on floor was starting to seem ideal.

The ding followed by the doors sliding open had him moving again, heading down the hall to Iwa-chan’s door. Most nights he and Iwa-chan get home at the same time, other nights he had to wait outside the door until Iwa-chan’s shift is over. Tooru always had the invitation to sit with Tobio and the neighbors, but he always declined it. The floor was welcoming, whereas the large eyes of a pair of small children and a toddler were terrifying.

Tooru stood in front of Iwa-chan’s door for a long time, eyes locked on the handle before turning it and revealing it was unlocked for him. So Iwa-chan was home! Which made Tooru smile as he pushed open the door, ready to throw out a loud greeting as if it were some extravagant and unexpected arrival, but the words felt dry in his mouth when he stepped inside.

Iwa-chan was sitting up on the couch half asleep, head hanging over the top with one hand curled softly in his lap around a green crayon. Tobio sat at his feet, pieces of stray paper covering the coffee table along with the rest of the crayons and their empty box.

How cute… but also, kind of heartbreaking. Tooru closed the door quietly, trying not to rouse Iwa-chan when Tobio looked up at him, and rather than yelling, the child placed a finger to his lips and shushed Tooru, to which he nodded in return.

Tooru pulled his coat off, hanging it by the door along with Iwa-chan’s. Tobio was still in his jacket, attention back on whatever he was drawing, marking the paper with his worn-down purple crayon. Watching him, Tooru wondered how long Iwa-chan had been asleep, how long he’d been home before he’d passed out and left Tobio to play by himself. How long as his been happening, even since before Tooru was around.

There was no doubt about it that Iwa-chan worked hard every day. Whether at the restaurant or at home, he was always doing something for someone, his son or otherwise. Never for himself. And a nap? Otherwise unacceptable in his eyes. Tooru knew that, he’s always known that.

“Daddy was drawing a dragon,” Tobio said finally, taking Tooru from his thoughts, focused on the scribbles in front of him.

“Yeah?” Tooru approached the table after slipping his shoes off, voice soft as to not wake Iwa-chan. “Did he just fall asleep?”

“Uh-huh,”

Beside Tobio’s current masterpiece resided a sketch in green of what had to be a dragon, even if it looked like Pac Man’s head on the body of a lizard. It was missing half of a wing which was partially colored in, and Tooru could picture the moment Iwa-chan leaned back against the couch to _rest his eyes_ before he could finish the wing.

Tooru crouched down, shifting onto his knees to examine the rest of the drawings. Few scrap papers had green crayon on them, while clues and red and yells marked practically every page. He sat quietly, watching Tobio attempt to draw what looked like a sword before reaching across the table for the lighter of the blue crayons, and began to draw at the edge of a piece.

“What should I draw, Tobio-chan?” he asked, marking the sheet with swirls and curls of blue.

“Mmmm… a king,” Tobio said, glancing up from his piece. “With a big crown.”

“Okay.”

The two drew together in silence, the scraping of crayons and moving of papers keeping Tooru sane in the quiet. Every now and then, Iwa-chan would shift in his sleep or exhale loudly, but he never stirred enough to wake himself up, crayon tight in his grasp. Tobio didn’t dare try to wake him, which for some reason made Tooru feel guilty.

Tooru’s king drawing was done before Tobio said anything. Now, he wasn’t much of an artist himself, but it was definitely better than Lizard Pac Man. It looked a bit like Tobio, too, or at least it did in his own mind. He pushed his drawing down the smooth top of the coffee table for the boy to see, and Tobio put his crayon down to look.

“Good,” said Tobio, tiny fingers wrinkling the edges of the paper as he held it up.

“You can color it if you want,” Tooru offered. Tobio beamed at him, placing the drawing down over his own. “As long as his cape is red.”

While Tobio was occupied by that, Tooru got to his feet and moved on to the kitchen to search the fridge. For someone who cooks for a living, there was a huge lack of groceries in Iwa-chan’s fridge. Tooru hummed thoughtfully, peeking inside the carton of eggs then sighing at the singular egg before shutting the refrigerator door.

Iwa-chan must really be exhausted… but of course he was. Getting up early every day had already been taking a toll on him, but it was even earlier now that he had to take Tooru to work. Tooru frowned, feeling that guilt again.

He returned to the living room then, stopping behind Tobio to lean over him and watch him poorly color in the king. The cape was red, the rest of him was dark blue, except for the crown which was orange for some reason.

“Impressive work, Tobio-chan,” Tooru hummed, and Tobio grinned widely, putting his crayon down. “Don’t forget to sign it.”

“Huh?”

“With your name, sign it in the corner. I’ll sign mine too since we did it together.”

Tobio’s big blue eyes were glued to Tooru as he dropped to his knees again, picking up a random color to scrawl out the kanji of his name. When he was done, he placed the very same color in front of Tobio for his tiny hands to take, and pointed to the blank space beside his name. “Right there.”

“Huh…” Tobio repeated, pouting his lower lip out. “I… dunno. Dunno how.”

“To write your name?”

Tobio nodded.

“Can you read mine?”

Now Tobio just looked embarrassed. “No…”

“Hm.” Tooru frowned at the pout. He looked over the table before taking the dragon Iwa-chan had been drawing and flipped the paper over, laying it in front of Tobio and himself. “Pick a color.” He watched Tobio take up the purple crayon he’d been using earlier, and snatched up the barely used pink one for himself. “Here, watch me.”

Carefully, Tooru wrote out his first and last name, Tobio’s eyes staring at each line. In crayon, his name didn’t look very glorifying. Pink crayon, nonetheless… but still, Tobio’s attention was all his, observant and willing to learn, so he continued. He wrote Tobio’s name beneath it, kanji as clear as possible beneath his own name.

“This one is my name; Oikawa Tooru.” He explained. Tobio nodded once. “And this one,” Tooru pointed to the symbols below his own. “Is yours. Iwaizumi Tobio. Understand?” When Tobio nodded again, Tooru wrote one of the two names on a different spot on the paper. “Whose name is this?”

“Uhh… I… dunno.”

Tooru showed him the first two again, big and clear and pink, pointing out the differences. “It’s hard, but you’ll get the hang of it.” Then, he covered both up with his hand, leaving only the lonesome one near the bottom of the page. “Try to remember. Whose name is that?”

With narrowed eyes, Tobio pointed at the kanji. He stared, hyperfocused, mumbling to himself before looking up at Tooru. “Mine?”

“Good job!” He would have yelled, if not for the sleeping man on the couch. “Do you want to try writing it now?”

“Looks… hard.” Tobio said, but his crayon was ready.

“Follow my hand, okay? There’s an order to it, so watch closely or it’ll look wrong and be hard to read.”

For the next few minutes, Tooru and Tobio wrote their names together. Tobio was slower, a lot more uneven with his lines, and tried to rush when Tooru got too far ahead. He wasn’t terrible though. He was trying his best, which made Tooru smile a little. More than a little, actually. Enough that when Tobio got it right for the first time, he almost yelled.

“You--! Good. Good.” Tooru gave a few soft claps, practically making Tobio glow. “You think you can write it yourself now?”

Tobio seemed to be one hundred percent for the idea of writing his name alone, strokes careful. He didn’t get it right this time, but he was close, and honestly? Tooru couldn’t be prouder.

The moment of truth came when Tobio decided he was ready to sign his name at the bottom of their collaboration. It was a little clunky when he did it, strokes unsteady, but he had the order down for the most part. Beside Tooru’s own name below the king, Tobio had drawn out his name in large, purple kanji.

See, now the fatherly thing to do would be to tell Tobio “good job, sport,” and pat him on the head or on the back. Tooru, however, was not Tobio’s father, and Tobio was not his son. Not to mention, touching Tobio Tooru wrinkled his nose for a brief moment, looking at their names written down in pink and purple crayon. Tobio had worked hard… but this was more of something for Iwa-chan to celebrate with him. Not… whatever Tooru was.

It’s thinking like that which brings him to silence when Tobio is babbling about writing as good as Tooru, when Tooru can’t focus on his words because his own mind is too focused on the fact that he’s filthy and should not be sitting this close to a child. Iwa-chan had given him three strikes—just sitting there felt like thirty.

 

Iwa-chan ordered pizza for dinner. Too tired to cook, didn’t feel like looking up the number for the place down town, and Tobio wasn’t in the mood for noodles anyway. Plus the fridge only occupied one egg and some leftovers from a few nights ago, but who could think about leftovers when pizza existed?

Tobio was beyond excited to show Iwa-chan his and Tooru’s drawings, but even more to show him that Tooru taught him to write his name. Iwa-chan shot a look to Tooru when he thought Tooru wasn’t paying attention, eyes on the TV but mind engrossed elsewhere. He saw it, though. Saw the way those usually sharp eyes were soft on him, the smallest smile pulling at his lip corners.

Tooru was ready for a second slice, but paused in getting up when Iwa-chan asked him how work went, addressing him personally for the first time since that morning. The pizza box mocked him at the far end of the coffee table, much like Akaashi’s cocky tone early on in their day, making Tooru sit up.

“It was weird,” he told Iwa-chan.

“How so?” returned Iwa-chan, pulling the long strand of cheese off of Tobio’s slice before it could drop into his lap.

“Well,” Tooru huffed. “There’s this guy that always comes into the library. Like, almost once a day.”

“Yeah?”

Tooru turned to Iwa-chan. “Yeah and, like, he has a huuuuge crush on Akaashi. It’s super obvious. And up until today, Akaashi’s been ignoring it, or pretending to I guess. I told him he should give the guy a shot, y’know? Because, hey, I don’t know Akaashi’s type, or if he even _has_ one—” Iwa-chan sent a pointed look in Tooru’s direction. “Alright, sorry.”

“Anyway, you told him to give this guy a shot?”

“He proposed to the guy over the fu---nnnnhhh—over the coutner. To spite me! Like, I’m just trying to be nice and friendly since it’s sooooo hard for Akaashi to be like that, and he—uh. Wh—stop la—stop laughing! I don’t get what’s funny. I’m telling you he did it to spite me!”

“What’s this guy look like, exactly?” Iwa-chan asked between laughs, hand over his mouth in attempt to stunt his giggles. “Round eyes? Awful hair with way too much gel?”

“He… yeah. How do you know… did Akaashi tell you already?”

Iwa-chan was grinning like he was in on some joke, which was _exactly_ what was happening. Tooru should have known, he should have—

“That’s Akaashi’s fiancé.”

“Well _yeah_ apparently!”

“No, no, I mean,” Iwa-chan snorted. “His actual fiancé. They’ve been engaged for months, his name’s Bok—”

“Owl!” Tobio gasped around a mouthful of cheese pizza.

“Yes, Tobio. Uncle Owl.”

Tooru squinted at the two of them. “Excuse me?”

“The Wizard has an owl,” said Tobio as if that would clear anything up.”

Leaning back against the couch, Iwa-chan kept that stupidly cute grin on his face, looking at Tooru. “Bokuto is Akaashi’s longtime boyfriend. They got engaged a few months back. He’s always going into the library to see Akaashi during his off time.”

“So… I was right? It was all out of spite?”

“I mean, I guess,” Iwa-chan’s expression was begging Tooru to let him laugh. “He just wanted to surprise you.”

“He has a sense of humor,” Tooru is in shock at this point, really. “And he used my stupidity against me.”

“I wouldn’t call it stupidity, you just didn’t know.”

“I guess!” Tooru threw his hands up, and this time Iwa-chan’s laughter bursted out. “I just! I can’t believe this!”

“He got you good.”

“He’s literally engaged! For real! Someone actually _likes_ him!”

“Hey.” Iwa-chan warned through a warm tone.

“Sorry!”

Now even Tobio was giggling, even if Tooru and Iwa-chan were positive he had no idea what was so funny. “Uncle Owl’s silly looking,” but actually, that was a great addition. Good job, Tobio.

Tooru steamed in both frustration and embarrassment for the rest of the meal, gnawing another piece of pizza into extinction. Akaashi you motherfucker. You jokester, you. So hard to read. So hard to like. Well, apparently not.

He stepped aside after some brooding to help Iwa-chan with the mess, washing the grease off their plates while Tobio curled up on the couch. He was a good boy, really. Tooru glanced at the boy over his shoulder, watching him cozy up on the cushions before Iwa-chan poked his ear, snagging his attention back.

They stood side by side at the sink, having tossed out those old leftovers and washing the containers along with the plates they’d used that night. Iwa-chan was quiet, smiling while he cleaned off the plates, soapy water clinging to his exposed forearms, sleeves rolled up above his elbows. Tooru didn’t mean to stare… much.

“So, you taught him to write,” Iwa-chan hummed, handing Tooru a drenched plate.

Beside him, Tooru towel-dried the tableware and shrugged. “Just his name.”

“And your name.”

“He can’t write my name. Only read it,”

“But still—” Iwa-chan nudged Tooru with his shoulder, shoving him over an inch. “—You taught him.”

Tooru sat the plate down. “He’s a fast learner.”

Iwa-chan was smiling something warm and radiating, enough that Tooru felt it over his profile and his neck. He cautioned a glance at it, catching the smile at full view because Iwa-chan wasn’t just smiling, he was smiling _at_ him. All for him. Tooru’s heart sped up in his chest.

“I remember you saying you didn’t like kids,” Iwa-chan hummed, going back to his dishes.

“Kids don’t like me. Shouldn’t, anyway,” said Tooru, taking the next clean plate to dry. “Especially not Tobio. Not when he…’s got you.”

“What were you gonna say?”

Not when he’s already had one person abandon him.

Tooru shook his head, smiling at Iwa-chan to push all those thoughts back. “Don’t worry about it. Do we have dessert?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter preview (you know, like they do on the animes):
> 
> "oikawa don't you fucking do it"  
> "but he's drunk."  
> "OIKAWA DONT YOU FUCKING DO IT."
> 
> *this is not at all as bad as it seems

**Author's Note:**

> if you actually stuck around ily and i swear this is going somewhere. this is gonna be a really feel-good fic trust me ok trust me im a doctor i have knowledge in feel-good things. trust me.


End file.
